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Barracks	By : chayron Category: Dragon Ball Z > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 16996 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball Z – it belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I am not making any money from writing it.

Chapter List
- 1-Barracks
- 2-Part 2
- 3-Part 3
- 4-Part 4
- 5-Part 5
- 6-Part 6
- 7-Part 7
- 8-Part 8
- 9-Part 9
- 10-Part 10
- 11-Part 11
- 12-Part 12
- 13-Part 13
- 14-Part 14
- 15-Part 15
- 16-Part 16
- 17-Part 17
- 18-Part 18
- 19-Part 19
- 20-Part 20
- 21-Part 21
- 22-Part 22
- 23-Part 23
- 24-Part 24
- 25-Part 25
- 26-Part 26
- 27-Part 27
- 28-Part 28
- 29-Part 29
- 30-Part 30
- 31-Part 31
- 32-Part 32
- 33-Part 33
- 34-Part 34
- 35-Part 35
- 36-Part 36
- 37-Part 37
- 38-Part 38
- 39-Part 39
- 40-Part 40
- 41-Part 41
- 42-Part 42
- 43-Part 43
- 44-Part 44
- 45-Part 45
- 46-Part 46
- 47-Part 47
- 48-Part 48
- 49-Part 49
- 50-Part 50
- 51-Part 51
- 52-Part 52
- 53-Part 53
- 54-Part 54
- 55-Part 55
- 56-Part 56
- 57-Part 57
- 58-Part 58
- 59-Part 59
- 60-Part 60
- 61-Part 61
- 62-Part 62
- 63-Part 63
- 64-Part 64
- 65-Part 65
- 66-Part 66
- 67-Part 67
- 68-Part 68
- 69-Part 69
- 70-Part 70
- 71-Part 71
- 72-Part 72
- 73-Part 73
- 74-Part 74
- 75-Part 75
- 76-Part 76
- 77-Part 77
- 78-Part 78
- 79-Part 79
- 80-Part 80
- 76
- 77
- 78
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball Z – it belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I am not making any money from writing it.
Warnings: Alternate Universe. Yaoi (male x male). Goten x Trunks and vice versa. Other pairings.
Barracks
by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by werewolfflutist
Part 77
It was past nine o’clock when they finally returned to the apartment. Exhausted, Trunks staggered into the bathroom, leaving a trail of dirty and sweaty clothing behind him on the floor. He closed the door and turned on the shower. He was taken aback by what he saw in the bathroom’s mirror. His left cheek was red and swollen. There was also a sizeable bruise right above his brow on the same side. His entire body looked as if someone had run a mower over it. Now there was not even a slight chance that his mother would not think that he was a victim of domestic abuse.
Frowning, Trunks touched the injured side of his face. And just right after his nose had healed. The door behind him opened and he turned to glare at Goten; the third-class had just strolled into the bathroom while it was occupied. Sometimes Goten lacked the simplest of common sense not to invade his privacy.
“Oh wow, so colorful,” Goten whistled at the sight, and Trunks nearly launched a bottle of shampoo at him. He reconsidered, instead glaring at the third-class even harder.
“I hope you look even worse.”
“Hmm? What’s the big deal? There are no serious injuries as far as I can see?”
Yes, usually, Saiyans looked much worse after a spar, and it was such a common occurrence that no one paid it any attention. Yet they had been using ki-shields. Ki-shields, for gods’ sakes! Trunks watched Goten undress and was satisfied to see a more or less similar pattern of bruises on the third-class’s skin.
“I’m sorry?” Goten offered uncertainly as Trunks was still obviously pissed off about something.
“What are you sorry for?” the prince sniggered. “For not going easy on me? Do that and I’ll fuck you up so bad that it’ll take you weeks to recover!”
Goten blinked at him. For a man who was head over heels for him, that was quite a hateful speech. He grinned.
“Oh? Just like you tried today? Would take you more effort than that.”
“Shut up, you overpowered…” Trunks grunted in frustration as nothing came to his mind. “…overpowered third-class!” he finished lamely, making Goten chuckle.
“Your Highness, I’m in awe of your royally pouty mood. There is, however, no point in getting upset over something like losing to a Legendary.”
“When the hell did I even lose?” Trunks sputtered in indignation.
“You’re rather high maintenance, aren’t you?” Goten said, at the same time wondering why the prince had left the running water on without stepping into the shower. It was wasteful in the middle of a desert.
“Of course I am!” Trunks confirmed rather seriously and heard Goten laugh. He kept glaring at the third-class. Goten was still in his underwear while he was nude. “I still haven’t seen you transform while naked,” he informed the other man in the same demanding voice.
“You’re still on about that?”
“Aren’t you curious?”
“Not the least bit.”
“Just humor me, then.”
“Alright,” Goten gave in. “But don’t blame me if your bodyguards crash the party. Should we actually warn them about this?”
“Nah.”
Goten looked dubious but shrugged; they were Trunks’ bodyguards. The prince’s eyes followed Goten’s hands, watching him hook his fingers under the waistband of his underwear.
“This is very awkward,” the third-class muttered, pushing his underwear down. He kicked it a bit further, out of his way, and stood still, trying to concentrate. It really felt awkward with Trunks’ eyes locked on his dick.
“So it turns blond here too,” Trunks shared his observations in a moment. “Bigger too. That would…”
“Shit!”
Trunks’ eyes left his lover’s crotch when he was suddenly knocked backwards into the bathroom wall. His eyes quickly caught a burning towel right behind the third-class’s left ear. Goten had just thrown a ki-shield on. Without thinking, Trunks snatched the towel and tossed it under the still-running shower.
“Power down. The floor tiles will crack.”
He needn’t have said that since, as soon as the mysterious and painful heat source was gone, Goten had dissipated his shield and powered down in fear of hurting him. The two of them turned to stare at the wet, blackened towel. Trunks giggled.
“You set my bathroom on fire.”
“It’s just a towel.” Goten turned to look at him. “Are you alright? You seem a little bit off.”
Trunks hummed. “I think I’m just tired, that’s all.” He stared at the running water and the blackened towel and suddenly the idea of taking a shower seemed to be unbearable. It was an impossible task. He leaned back against the cool, tiled wall. It seemed as if his body had turned into lead as soon as those words had left his mouth. “Very, very tired,” he muttered.
Goten watched him quietly for a few moments then grabbed a bathrobe from the hook and, after having thrown it over Trunks, led him out of the bathroom and straight to the bedroom.
“Want some water or anything?”
Trunks didn’t and was asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow. Goten returned to the bathroom, kicked the smoky towel away and took a shower. He thought about throwing the towel away, but it stank, so he just left it lying on the bathroom floor. Trunks was sound asleep when he returned to the bedroom. He didn’t wake up or even move a muscle while he was settling down next to him.
Goten wished he could help Trunks with his absurd workload, but the only thing he could do was to let him sleep to his heart’s content.
Yet, there was clearly more to his sudden tiredness than his workload. Goten tried to imagine what it would feel like to lose the prestige of being the most powerful Saiyan. Being a half-breed prince, Trunks relied on his unrivaled power and quick wits to outweigh the shortcoming, and now the foundation he had been building had lost one of its poles. It was stupid, both of them knew that, to compete with a Legendary in terms of power, but it didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt or was less upsetting.
ooOoOoOoo
Trunks jerked in his bed at the loud noise. Disoriented, he turned to stare at his bodyguard.
“What?” he muttered, rubbing the tingling side of his face.
“It’s almost eight, sir,” Maraka informed him.
Trunks sat up. Indeed, bright light was seeping from under the bottom of the curtains. “Oh… Yes, thank you,” he mumbled. “You may go.”
“Yes, sir.”
Trunks rolled out of the bed as soon as he saw the bodyguard’s back disappear in the doorway. He was completely naked and still felt woozy even after a good night’s sleep. He hadn’t even heard Goten get up and leave. The third-class hadn’t woken him up intentionally but he hadn’t known of his arrangement with his bodyguards. Since Trunks had a tendency to oversleep, he had made sure that they would wake him up before eight.
The bathroom stank of burnt cloth. The prince prodded the scorched towel with his toes and left it. He took a quick shower. The reflection in the mirror made him grunt in annoyance again. His face now was even more colorful than yesterday. Cursing, he left the bathroom and kept kicking the dirty clothes on his way that he had discarded on the floor yesterday. Why hadn’t Goten put them somewhere in the corner? Then again, why should he? Huffing, he gathered the clothes off the floor and stuffed them into the washing machine for later.
They had two days till his mother’s visit, and a shitload of things to organize by then.
ooOoOoOoo
“That was dangerous. What if you were injured? What about the baby? I was worried, you know.”
“Fuck you,” Almanda said.
Goten scowled at the elite. “It was really dan-”
“You had been so worried about the baby that you nearly fucked his brains out right there in the middle of your power show.”
The third-class closed his mouth. That was kind of true – he hadn’t been aware of anyone around him while the two of them had been sparring.
“How long has it been going on and why do I find out only after some random savar starts discussing your bed-warming habits with others? Am I the only one who didn’t know?”
Goten was glad that he was alone in her room. If there were any of his other friends with him, he would have felt even more awkward since, really, probably everyone had known. Why was it that at this essential point Almanda’s information network had malfunctioned?
“Well…” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck guiltily. “Well, it kind of…never came up?”
“Really? Even when I asked you what happened to Reyn?”
“Ugh.”
Almanda growled at the third-class, who looked most uncomfortable. She had told him about her pregnancy even though that was something his father should have told him. Yet, as far as she knew Goten, if she reminded him of that right now, he would tell her that if he got pregnant, he would tell her too and that it would also make rather big news in the entire Saiyan Empire.
“Asshole!” Almanda grunted out.
“Yeah,” Goten agreed with her easily, and one just couldn’t stay angry with him.
“So how long has it been going on?” the elite demanded.
Was it even possible for Goten to look even more shifty? It appeared that it was.
“Since… Well, I suppose since the very beginning. Nearly as soon as I arrived here.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“No, it wasn’t like that at first. I mean… We kind of…” Goten shrugged. “I don’t know. We just became interested in each other. There was a lot of friction at first and…”
“I bet!” Almanda sniggered, and Goten just sighed.
“In any case, it just happened.”
“Fucking a Saiyan prince doesn’t just happen, Goten.”
“Well, it did! He dragged me around and I pretended to hate it, which I kind of did? In any case, once it became clear that I am a Legendary, it all kind of clicked into place.”
“Lucky you.”
“Yeah, lucky me.”
Almanda stared at him for some time, musing. “So you dumped Reyn and here we are.”
“Listen, it’s a bit more complicated than that. I didn’t exactly dump him. It…”
The elite’s eyes went wide. “You’re two-timing? With a Vegeta? You nuts? Or is he okay with that? There’s no way he’d be!”
“No! I’m not two-timing! Ugh. I mean I wasn’t even there… Wait, I was there, but I was unconscious when it transpired, the whole separation thing.”
Almanda was giving him an utterly confused look. “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”
“I was unconscious, and my father took me away with him from the palace. That was the last I’ve ever seen of Reyn. I returned to the base after the war ended and soon Trunks arrived and we just hit it off. And before you say anything – some sort of conversation had taken place among the three of them, my father, Reyn and Trunks. I still don’t know the details but apparently Reyn told my father that if I wanted, I’d find him.”
“Huh. Seems like Reyn was perfectly aware of your little fling.”
“There has never been any fling, but yes, he was. All the time. I didn’t hide it either, that I was interested in Trunks.” Goten was blushing now. “I had it so bad that it was impossible to hide.”
The look Goten had now on his face… Dueri had clearly known that look as well. He had probably decided that it was pointless to hold on. A self-respecting man. Almanda shook her head.
“So now you and the prince are living together?”
“Kind of yes.”
“And everything’s alright?”
“Yup.”
It really did seem that Goten was content with the current situation, so there was nothing to worry about. Most likely.
ooOoOoOoo
Goten pushed past Airan and entered the prince’s apartment. To his surprise, it was dark inside. Drunkenly, he groped about on the wall in search of the light switch. It was nowhere to be found. Had Trunks moved it to punish him? But he hadn’t done anything wrong. Not lately, anyway. Finally, he discovered the switch in its usual place. He staggered over to the bedroom door and stuck his head in. Trunks was really asleep. Goten retreated back into kitchen-living room.
He had returned right when he promised Trunks he would. He had expected the prince to wait for him, perhaps to ask a few questions about what he talked with Almanda. It seemed that Trunks trusted him more now. That was good, right, but Goten felt a bit disappointed that Trunks wasn’t jealous. He had been looking forward to that.
His musings were cut short by the kitchen table’s murderous attempt on his pinky toe. Cursing loudly, Goten half-hopped and half-tumbled over to the sink to pour himself a mug of water. Smacking his lips after having drunk the gods’ nectar, he put the mug in the sink.
After traipsing about the flat for five more minutes, he finally snuck into the bed next to the prince and under the covers. Trunks didn’t even stir.
“You asleep?” Goten asked softly, shifting about. “Are you asleep?” he asked again a few seconds later, but much more loudly. “Trunks, are you asleep?”
“Arshfuck,” Trunks grunted, rolling away from him. “Hroomjroff.”
“What?”
“I said go to the bathroom and jerk off and let me sleep, for fucks’ sakes!”
“Ah. No, I don’t want sex.”
Grumbling, Trunks dug deeper into the bedding. “Then what the fuck do you want?”
“I was thinking…”
“Oh gods…” Trunks groaned. “You stink of alcohol.”
“Yes. So, I was thinking… What exactly happened back then in the palace? What promise was my father talking about in that dream? Did you really promise him something?”
Sighing, Trunks rolled on his back; Goten wasn’t going to shut up. “Yes, I did. Just before he took you away, Dueri said that if you wanted, you’d find him. That pissed me off and I told him that I’d find you first instead. Then, he…”
“You never doubted. Not even for one second, did you?”
“All my doubts disappeared instantly as soon as I saw your blond hair.”
“And before?”
“Goten, we’ve talked about this before. I doubt I’d have had the nerve to pursue you if not for the war. In the prospect of possible death… Well, I was obsessed with you, so why the hell not?”
“I thought you were nuts.”
Trunks rolled his eyes at the dark ceiling. “Oh, please. You clearly enjoyed all the attention.”
“Yep, but I still think that you are nuts. You could have gotten me killed. Untimely. Just before I had found out that I’m a Legendary. What about that? What would you have done then?”
“Yes, yes. I’m a selfish asshole, who nearly left his nation defenseless and in ruin. Now let me sleep.”
“At least you’re not in denial. Anyway, the promise. How did that come about?”
“Well, once I told your father that I’d find you, he stared at me for some time then turned to look at Reyn. I could clearly see whom he would prefer as your partner. That pissed me off even more. In any case, then I kind of blurted out that I’d make sure you were always safe with me.”
Embarrassed, Trunks covered his face with his hands, the bedsheets rustling about him. “That somehow sounded so cheesy at that moment that all three of us went red. Then your father was gone. Just disappeared right on the spot he had been standing.”
“That was Instant Transmission.”
That got the prince’s attention, his hands moving away from his face, he turning to his lover. “You can do that as well?” he wondered.
“Yes, I can. But it can be dangerous, so don’t ask me to teach you. I’m also not so sure that Father would want me to teach you.”
Trunks was disappointed, and Goten couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt. He pursed his lips, thinking. “I can try and teach you to sense other’s ki, I suppose.”
“What do you mean “sense”?”
“Well, without using a scouter. I am able to tell people apart by their exuded energy now. It can be annoying, though. Sometimes, I prefer not to as now everyone is like a small beacon walking about. And sometimes I need to specifically concentrate to be able to do it. Depends.”
“That would be great. But are you sure these abilities are not exclusive to your species?”
Goten blinked. “Oh. To be honest, the thought has never occurred to me. I have no idea… I suppose I’ll have to ask my father.”
“Okay, great, do it. Can we sleep now?”
“Hmm… Yes.”
“Thank gods.”
ooOoOoOoo
Bulma Briefs Vegeta gave the crowd a blinding smile, a generous wave of greeting and started descending from the aircraft. She had reached Vegeta-sei five hours ago. She had met her husband, the King of All Saiyans, and then had gone on to her intended destination – to visit her son.
She could barely recognize the school. There were many new buildings. She had been informed about the damage, but it was still shocking how everything had changed. The general atmosphere had changed as well. The Saiyans were looking at her with something akin to friendliness and generosity. Last time she visited, they had been curious about her persona yet mostly distant. She had always been able to sense that confused, condescending curiosity the Saiyans felt towards her no matter their class. It had been over two decades ago when the entire Saiyan nation had been floored by the news of the Crown Prince marrying some peculiar Earthling. And they had spent all those twenty years floored while trying to figure out why and how that happened and what was so special about her that their prince had decided to throw away the tradition of never mixing the royal blood. The former king had never forgiven neither her nor his son. Surprisingly, after it had become apparent that his grandson was the most powerful amongst all Saiyans, he had seemed to warm up to the kid. Yet, it had only been one of his calculating strategies and they had been incredibly lucky that no harm had come to Trunks.
Nowadays, the Saiyan outlook on Earthlings was different. Humans had not broken the alliance or switched sides during the war unlike some other nations and now were treated with more respect than ever. It was genuine respect she felt now instead of that confused curiosity.
Bulma was quick to spot Trunks at the very front of the crowding Saiyans. It hadn’t been a long time since they had seen each other at the crowning ceremony. Yet, every time she saw her son, her heart burst with joy. She nearly ran up to him.
“Nice to see you, Mother.”
She saw him smiling, and now everything was alright with the world. She grabbed him into a hug.
“Sweetheart, how are you?”
He patted her back. “I’m good.” He could hear tears in her voice and felt his eyes getting wet too. He pushed her away gently before it could get too embarrassing. There were too many people here.
“Are you hungry?” he asked. “Or perhaps you’d like to rest while the stalls are being arranged?”
“Both.”
“You can dismiss your guards, then. Let them help out with the arrangements.”
Bulma did as told and followed her son to the other side of the base to a newly erected building. The billboard right above the door read The Legendary. It was obviously the new officers’ club. Bulma couldn’t help letting out an amused snigger. Nowadays, the Saiyans were crazed about their legendary heroes. You couldn’t have a conversation with an Elite without hearing a “Legendary” mentioned at least five times.
Once inside the club, she was engulfed by the blessed coolness produced by air conditioners. She exhaled in relief. The desert heat had always been too much for her to handle, and she could not help but wonder how her son fared in this weather while being so fair skinned in comparison to other Saiyans.
Two second-classes rushed over to them and showed them to what was probably considered the VIP table in the establishment. Bulma opened the menu, which had found its way into her hands nearly at the same time she had sat down. There were no other visitors in the club.
“Warn me if I am about to order a rat again, will you?”
Trunks chuckled. He opened the menu, glanced at the pages and closed it again; he wasn’t hungry. Instead, he wondered how long it would take for his mother’s suite to arrange the food and drinks she had brought to the base for his birthday’s celebration. He knew perfectly well how much the savars and officers had been looking forward to that.
He leaned back into his hair and cast a look about. The Legendary was vastly different than the previous Matilda. While Matilda had been mostly black and red colors, The Legendary was creepily yellow and neon teal. It was obviously the homage to the Legendaries’ hair color and eyes, but this particular color combination in a club just freaked him out. This was his third time visiting and it wasn’t getting any better.
“What exactly is this?” Bulma asked, lowering her menu onto the table and pointing at a long, exotic-looking dish name.
Trunks leant forward to inspect the title. “Mm… That is a kind of a bird. I haven’t tried this particular dish yet, but it should be fine. The garnish is carrots, potatoes, the usual.”
“If coffee any good here?”
“No, don’t order. I’ll treat you to some in my apartment. I bought a coffee maker several weeks ago. It’s much better than theirs.”
Humming, Bulma closed the menu. “You aren’t ordering anything. You’ve lost weight.”
“Have I?” Trunks wondered. It wasn’t surprising if he really had. There was too much work, not enough sleep and too much sex. He watched his mother place her order. She didn’t pick any alcohol, just apple juice with her fowl. He asked for some water; there would be plenty of time to get drunk once the celebration started.
ooOoOoOoo
Goten was in the middle of a clamoring savar crowd. He always attracted attention wherever he went and now, when almost everyone knew that he was a Legendary, even more so. Trunks could see that even the officers were interested, trying to catch a glimpse of him here or there. The third-class was especially interesting to the Royal Guards who had escorted his mother here. Some of them already knew Goten from his short career in the Palace, others were seeing him for the first time. Trunks could hear whispers a little further away from Goten.
“So which one is it?”
Trunks turned to his mother. Was it so obvious that he had been staring? Taking his time, he sipped the champagne from the fancy glass he was holding; the countless bottles of champagne and glasses were courtesy of his mother.
“The one close to the table, with two glasses in his hands.”
Bulma scanned the crowd until she saw a young man fitting the description. “The one with the spiky hair?”
The prince gave her a look; all of them had spiky hair. “Yeah,” he said. “That’s him, Goten.”
Bulma took in what she was able to see among the milling people. Bardock was young, even by Human standards. Well, her son did say that they were only one year apart. She, however, had expected Bardock to be or, at least, look older than Trunks. She had obviously been wrong in thinking that her son had a thing for older men. Now she also understood what her son had meant about his lover having average looks too – Bardock looked like an ordinary Saiyan. If one needed an illustration sample of a Saiyan specimen, Bardock was a perfect option. He looked so absolutely normal that it was even somewhat boring.
Bulma sipped her drink. She was looking forward to talking to him in the evening.
“He doesn’t hold back on the champagne, does he?” she commented after a while.
“Yeah,” Trunks muttered. “He rarely holds back on anything.”
Bulma’s eyebrows rose. “Is he an alcoholic?”
“No, Mother, he isn’t. He just loves partying. A perfectly normal phenomenon.”
“Your average teenager, isn’t he?”
“That’s right.”
Trunks suddenly felt something heavy and utterly unpleasant drop in the pit of his stomach. There was a hand on Goten’s nape, and it was unambiguously inviting: was petting and stroking. Who the fuck did the asshole think he was touching? The prince’s eyes followed the insulting appendage and stopped on an unfamiliar face. Must be one of his mother’s bodyguards; everyone else on the base already knew that Goten belonged to him and would not even think of touching him in that kind of manner. Yet, before he could take any action, Goten casually brushed the offending limb off and strolled over to the table to get even more champagne. Two new glasses found their way into his hands.
Bulma touched Trunks’ arm to bring him out of trance. For a moment her son had looked as if he was about to faint, then the feebleness had been replaced by anger, and then it dissipated too. All that emotional palette in a span of a few moments.
“You okay?”
“Yeah,” he muttered, his eyes still following Goten in the crowd.
“He’s very popular, isn’t he?” she wondered at the ever-present circle around Bardock.
“Yes, he is. Has always been,” Trunks muttered somewhat bitterly, but there was some pride too.
Bulma hid her grin behind the glass.
“He’s a Legendary,” Trunks said. “As far as we know, he and his father are the only ones. For now. He is going to have a brother or sister in half a year or so.”
Bulma’s stunned eyes found Bardock again. “But he doesn’t look like…” she trailed off, concentrating hard and trying to compare the images from the videos with the youngster in the crowd.
“No, he doesn’t,” Trunks agreed. “But I’ve seen him turn into that being, blond hair, teal eyes…”
“Kind of creepy, isn’t it?” Bulma muttered.
Trunks chuckled. “I find it rather cool, actually.”
Bulma smiled. “Well, then there is no problem with him being a second-class, is there?”
The prince looked at her. It all seemed so simple to her that he even felt upset. “We’ve got nothing but problems.”
Bulma wanted to continue the conversation, but he shook his head indicating that it wasn’t the place, too many ears around. She would have to wait a few hours for that conversation.
ooOoOoOoo
Goten entered Trunks’ apartment as he always did and was startled when the Royal Guard called his name out for the royalty in the living room.
“Goten Bardock, the Legendary.”
“The fuck you doing?” Goten asked him, baffled. He was buzzed from all the champagne he had drunk. Yet, at the sight of Bulma Briefs Vegeta in the living room, he straightened. “Oh, yeah. That’s me, I suppose,” he said, grinning sheepishly.
Trunks rolled his eyes while his mother seemed to be taken aback. With some difficulty, Goten took his boots off and walked over to them. His innocent smile was dazzling.
“I’m honored to meet you, Your Highness,” he bowed his head as it was accustomed of Saiyans.
“Likewise, Goten,” Bulma said. “Let’s drop the formalities – we’re almost family after all. Call me Bulma.”
Surprised, Goten blinked at the carpet. There was something weird going on. He straightened, gave the woman another bright smile and trudged over to the sink to pour himself some water in hopes of sobering up. He tried to remember if Trunks had warned him about his mother visiting his apartment, then decided that, naturally, she would have. That was what she had come for after all – to see her son in his natural habitat.
After gulping down a mugful of water, the third-class set the mug back on the counter and turned around to give another smile.
Fuck. This was fucking awkward.
They finally sat down at the coffee table, Trunks and Goten next to each other on the sofa while Bulma took a chair and settled opposite them. Goten’s face was starting to hurt from all that unnatural smiling.
“Erm… So, Goten, where do you come from?”
Goten blinked. This wasn’t something Humans asked about as: as far as they were concerned, all Saiyans came from Vegeta-sei. Just like most Saiyans thought that all Humans came from Earth, which wasn’t true either. Wondering, Goten scratched the back of his head.
“From Yasan. It’s a small town or rather more like a village far away from the capital. It’s a wasteland there, only sand and rocks.”
“Oh? Pretty similar to this, then?” Bulma asked, spreading her hands, indicating the surroundings of the base.
“Yes, it’s almost the same.”
Goten couldn’t help but be impressed – she spoke almost perfect standard Saiyan and didn’t use a translator even though she had one hanging on her chest. Unlike the Saiyan Scouter, it was an interesting version of an advanced pendant packed with electronics. He had also noticed that some of the guttural sounds the Saiyan language employed were rather straining on her vocal cords. Not that he was an expert or anything, it just sounded as if she put a lot of effort into speaking.
“So what do you like doing in your free time, Goten?”
Goten’s eyes went to Trunks and, from the look on his face, he deduced that the honest answer “drinking and fucking” wasn’t suitable.
“Uhh…” Goten drawled uncertainly. “Hanging out with friends? Sparring?”
Those were closer to suggestions than statements and Bulma looked at her son, whose eyes shifted towards the window. It was curtained, so instead, his gaze set on the ceiling. Bulma nearly snorted in amusement. The two were incredible.
“And how about your family?” she asked. She knew that many Saiyans didn’t have a luxury of one. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?” She noticed her son shift uncomfortably and glance at Goten apologetically, but those were common questions, weren’t they? Unless they had been killed.
“My mother died soon after I was born, and I was mostly raised by my older brother. He died some years back as well. My father…” Goten scratched the back of his head again. “Well, he’s fine. About to marry and have one more child.”
Bulma, who had already known that last bit of information, nodded. “It’s good news, isn’t it? A new life in these desperate times.”
The third-class frowned at her words. “It’s an accidental life and I have no idea how they are going to deal with it,” he spat. “And don’t get me started on how there’s not that much of a chance of the baby inheriting this mysterious legendary gene.”
The rant was met with utter bafflement. Bulma turned to her son.
The prince shook his head lightly. “Goten, I didn’t tell her.” He hadn’t even intended to and hadn’t been prepared for Goten going all defensive and insolent and flapping his mouth around like that. He should have expected that, though, as Goten had a tendency to snap under what he thought were demeaning interrogations.
“Didn’t tell me what?” Bulma demanded.
“That I’m a third-class,” Goten said. He didn’t even know why he was doing this. It wasn’t that he was too drunk to understand or to be able to control himself. He was doing this on purpose, but why exactly, he didn’t really understand. Humans didn’t pay much attention to Saiyan classes, and Trunks had assured him that his mother wouldn’t care either as long as they avoided trouble in the Saiyan society. Yet, the suddenly scandalized look on Bulma’s face proved otherwise, just as Goten had expected. Her reaction just made him want to talk more, about how he didn’t really belong to any of the classes, which was even worse, but Trunks put his hand on his thigh and that shut him up.
They sat quietly for some time while Bulma was trying to wrap her mind around the information and how or if it affected the situation.
“How did you even…?” She threw her hands apart trying to understand how he had been admitted to an officers’ school.
It was a long conversation, and Trunks did most of the talking, as Goten still felt insulted and nobody could guarantee that his buzzed self wouldn’t start something again.
At some point, Bulma felt that she badly needed a drink as well. Trunks’ story was missing some crucial information, but she was able to easily make heads and tails of it. She had never imagined that her son would pursue someone to such an extent as to employ them at the castle together with their boyfriend. On the other hand, Trunks probably wouldn’t have done it if he had thought that he had no chance. Goten was a suspicious character. Yet Trunks was crazily in love with him. That much was obvious from the way he was telling their story. Goten himself interrupted her son only twice. Once to explain where he had stayed after her father-in-law’s attempts to murder him. The second time was to explain why he was able to see those visions.
Bulma found it all to be too much: gods and visions, Trunks and a third-class Legendary. Yet, she hadn’t seen Trunks so happy for…a very, very long time. He seemed much more confident and somehow…relaxed at the same time? Incredibly so. Was he really able to handle Goten, though? At a first glance, the man seemed to be average, even simplistic, but there was much more to him. And while Trunks was a year older, and also his superior, it was obviously Goten who…
Her trail of thought disappeared while she watched them both. They were comfortable next to each other. Goten was already half-asleep, partly leaning against the back of the sofa and partly against Trunks’ shoulder. He was finally relaxed, his entirely brown tail unwound and drooping on the sofa next to his thigh. Trunks, meanwhile, could probably feel comfortable to such an extent only in his sleep. His tail had always been a sensitive issue. Since a very young age, he felt uncomfortable having one. She had tried talking to her husband about that, but Vegeta didn’t understand the problem. The only disturbing thing about his son’s tail he found its color. Trunks’ hair and blue eyes bothered him as well, but it was not something he could change so, in the end, he just accepted and forgot about it.
Bulma couldn’t help remembering that, a few months before Trunks’ birth, Vegeta had sat her down for a talk. A white tip, apparently, was a must on a royal tail. He informed her that if their firstborn didn’t have one, they would have to paint it white. She had laughed at the idea at first, but it took her only a moment to understand how serious the situation was. It wasn’t a joke; it was death or life. Vegeta was a shrewd man, and he wasn’t going to risk it. He had also been ready to remove all witnesses, but Trunks was born with a pretty white tip and the possible problem was gone. Sometimes she wondered what they would have done if he had been born tailless. Would have they attached a fake one? Operated on him to sew one on?
Bulma shuddered. Nowadays, she could hardly believe how blindly she had followed Vegeta, and how little she had thought about their and their possible children’s future in that hardly familiar culture. It all had seemed just a grand adventure. She had been young, in love and stupidly so. Just like her son now.
TBC
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