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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
- 8
- 9
- 10
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.
A/N 1: Officer ranks at Hataro Officer Training School [from the highest to the lowest]:
1. Taisa [Andera Gendian]
2. Shaii [Trunks Vegeta]
3. Shyu
4. Captain [Laureus Tanko]
5. Drill sergeant
6. First-in-command
7. Second-in-command
8. Savar [anyone attending any officer training school]
A/N 2: The Saiyan education:
0. Preparatory school (pupils 8-13 years old)
1. Paramilitary school (pupils 14-18). From there to --> boot camps (drafts/grunts) or:
2. Officer training school (savars 18 – 20). From there to --> military posts or:
3. Commissioned Officer Academy (ranks)
A/N 3: any mistakes that are left are because sometimes I am too resistant to grammar.
Barracks
by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by chibi_vegeta
Part 9
A bright smile spread over Goten’s face when he saw the numbers on the screen of the automatic teller machine. He admired the digits for a few more seconds then withdrew some cash, later his card. After securely storing it in his front pocket, he went straight for the warehouse. He intended to buy two new uniforms. He was aware of the fact that after buying two of them, and also returning the debts, he would have hardly enough credits left for one month’s meals. Nonetheless, slaving away in the kitchen had its own advantages, and he desperately needed new uniforms because both of his were in tatters. He preferred to buy them now, while he still had enough money.
The officer responsible for the warehouse said nothing to Goten. He just went deeper into the warehouse to find the uniforms of the needed size, then returned and took Goten’s card. The register digested the card without any problems, and the uniforms flopped in front of Goten on the counter. The third-class gathered his card and the clothes and, with his arms and hands full, went to his barracks.
Content, Goten entered his room and threw everything onto his bed. The room was empty, his roommates probably already celebrating the payday. Stretching his arms over his head, he yawned then sat down next to his clothes to relax for a minute or two. It was Sunday and, as usual on Sundays, savars’ duties lasted only until noon, giving them enough time for doing things that could not be done on weekdays.
Goten slid down sideways next to his clothes, spooning around them. He yawned. The entire month had kept him on his toes with pleasant and not pleasant surprises and with exclusive training. But the busyness had kept him from self-pity and with passing days the ache of failing the piloting test had lessened. Now he wondered why back then he had reacted as he had. He had thought hard about everything and decided that now his main goal was to finish this Officer’s School with a certificate in his hands. The certificate was going to offer a free access to the files of the accident related to Gohan. It was supposed to, at least. He had no idea during what kind of misunderstanding he had gotten here or whether it was on purpose but he was going to use his circumstances to his advantage.
Goten woke up to someone shaking him. His blinked his bleary eyes at Daram.
“Kyon says you’d better hurry up or you might get another year of kitchen duty.”
Sleepily, Goten rubbed at his face with his palms. Still not quite awake, he stood up and tumbled toward the door. “But we are graduating in two years,” he muttered.
His roommate winked at him. “If you piss off the shaii a few more times, I don’t think it would be a problem – you’ll just repeat the course. Alone.”
Before closing the door, Goten gave him the finger.
In the kitchen, Kyon had been relieved to hear that none of the officers had noticed Goten was missing. Then Kyon had nagged at Goten for a few minutes, slammed a huge bowl of vegetables in front of him, and left him in peace.
Halfway through his work, Goten saw Toharu and Ario chatting away at the stoves. First, Goten patted his pockets then wiped his hands on his pants and started searching through his pockets. He discovered that he had left the cash in his room. Taking a knife in his hands again and coming back to chopping the vegetables, he settled on returning the money to Toharu later.
The dinner came and went, leaving them with hundreds of piles of dishes to scrub clean. When they were done, it was already seven o’clock. Goten went to lock the canteen’s door for the night. He tossed the keys for Kyon and left the kitchen first with the intention of getting Toharu’s money and returning it while Toharu was still in the kitchen and before he had to go and peel potatoes.
Goten went through the back door and past the warehouse. He stopped on his way as he saw a cluster of six elites. Immediately, he swiveled round and headed back towards the kitchen. He halted again as another group of elites appeared from behind the canteen. Goten had been wondering when this would happen. He had been pretty surprised no one came to have it out with him straight away after the accident at the Laundromats.
He was in deep shit.
Goten looked from one group to another. He counted eleven elites. Some of the faces belonged to those who had been at the Laundromats. The rest of them didn’t seem familiar but obviously they were here to extend their elite rights to beat up any lower class and take their hard labored money away.
Suddenly, Goten felt a malicious glee that he had not a penny on him. He wasn’t even wearing his new uniform. Considering he might ever need one again. While backpedaling in the direction of the spaceship hangar, he thought that it would be a miracle if he survived this.
“Goten…?”
Through the gaps of the enclosing elites, Goten looked at the ringleader who had just walked outside the door from the kitchen. Seven females followed her. Goten used the opportunity of some of the hostile elites being distracted by their appearance and lunged forward. His only saving grace was the kitchen.
Goten swung his fist and knocked down the elite who had tried to grab him. He dodged another one but the third managed to grab Goten by his hand and tried to truss it up behind his back. Goten twisted out of the attempted hold. He kicked the elite’s feet from under him but he didn’t let go and both of them tumbled onto the ground, Goten landing on his stomach. In a moment the elite was on his back, trussing his arm up. But the kick in his attacker’s face forced a loud yelp from his mouth and the elite was flung off the third-class.
Goten pushed himself off the ground in a blink. The ringleader, who had helped him, was now ambushed by two elite males. Goten elbowed the guy who was trying to force him back onto the ground and smashed his fist into the nearest elite’s face. The ringleader’s foot found the purchase in the second one’s stomach. They didn’t have any time to catch their breath as the avalanche of elite males rolled over them.
From the corner of his eye, Goten could see the rest of the females grappling. He cursed under his breath. They didn’t stand a chance. Five of them were elites, the rest were second-classes. Besides, as a rule, an elite female could hardly compare to an elite male in strength. This was going to end in one-sided carnage. He should have told them to get the hell out of here. But not for a moment had he thought they would interfere.
A few seconds later Goten heard Toharu’s and Ario’s voices, which indicated that they had joined in the fight. Then he saw them both fighting side to side. Both of them were trying to keep their backs to the canteen, it being the only chance of escape. He could also see Ranvera and Kyon. He wasn’t sure but the thing Kyon was holding in his hand reminded him an awful lot of a frying pan.
Goten didn’t know how but after he had punched the elite who had been trying to beat the ringleader, both of them suddenly found themselves broken through the encirclement of the enemy. Not wasting any time, they ran towards the door leading into kitchen with four elites chasing them.
“Look!” the ringleader shouted, motioning at something behind them.
Goten’s eyes followed the motion. About fifteen savars were rushing towards the fighting people. He could not see whether they were elite or second-classes thus he was not sure what to expect. But when the first of them launched himself on an elite male, his hesitation was all gone. He rushed after the ringleader into the kitchen.
The elites blew in after them.
Standing among long metal tables, Goten looked around for anything that he could use as a weapon. His eyes set on the ringleader who, after ransacking through the shelves under the tables, found the same hammer for crushing bones Goten once had wanted to use on her. The elites fell back a step when she stood next to Goten with the heavy hammer raised in her hands threateningly.
Goten’s gaze fell behind the elites where Kyon appeared. He was holding the pan as if he was ready to serve a tennis ball. Goten looked around again but the only thing he could see were dishes and a few other kitchen utensils. He grabbed a grater. The ringleader looked at him with both eyebrows raised.
Toharu stormed into the kitchen, silently took in the scene, kicked the door shut and turned the key, locking them in. Grinning, with his left eye already puffed and turning black, he started walking towards the middle of the kitchen. Slowly, saving his time, he lifted one of the heavy metallic tables. The elites looked at him, unsure. Two of them managed to jump over the tables and get out of his way, but the other two were beaten down as Toharu suddenly shot forward, knocking them over with the massive table.
Kyon swung his pan in the air above the elites trapped behind the table a few times as if testing it then whammed it over the nearest elite’s head. Goten tossed the grater away and kicked the second one in the head. He wished he’d have something as effective as Kyon. He whirled around as there was a sudden battle-cry heard. Goten turned in time to see the ringleader’s hammer collide with one of the two remaining elites’ stomach. She kicked him in the face as he doubled over, sending him crashing through the tables. A pile of dishes flew in all directions shattering to the floor with enormous jingling sound.
The fourth elite backed away to the wall behind him. Goten climbed over the table in his way. Kyon tested his frying pan. Toharu’s eyes swiveled fondly towards another table. The ringleader lifted her hammer. Vaguely, Goten became aware that he could not hear the sounds of the fight transpiring outside. Leaving his friends to deal with the last elite, he walked to the door and unlocked it. Slowly, he opened it.
“Goten,” the shaii nodded, greeting him courteously. “And why did I know that I’d find you here?”
Goten felt the sudden urge to slam the door in the shaii’s face and lock it again. Nonetheless, he knew that if he did that, he would be slaving in the kitchen not for two years but for the rest of his pitiful life. Therefore, without a word leaving his mouth, he opened the door the rest of the way and saluted.
Over the third-class’ shoulder, the prince looked inside the kitchen where, in the middle of the mess of scattered tables and broken dishes, he discerned Kyon banging at some elite’s head with a frying pan.
“This one’s for tomorrow’s breakfast?” the shaii asked in an overly cheerful voice.
“Do you want him stuffed or boiled?” Kyon huffed out through gritted teeth, still banging away, the adrenaline coursing through his body. He raised his head as the ringleader elbowed him in the side. He froze, the pan slipping through his fingers. With a clang, it fell onto the floor. He saluted. “S-sir!”
“Fried. And a table for two,” the shaii said. He wrapped his arm around Goten’s stiff shoulders. “Me and Goten here have a lot to discuss.”
ooOoOoOoo
The afternoon sun was scorching the walls of the headquarters. The air in the office was stuffy, mixing with the stink of newly painted walls. The windows were open but there was not even a slight breeze outside and it did nearly nothing to alleviate the stench and heat. Frowning, the shaii gathered a bunch of blank forms off his desk and started using them as a fan.
The third-class sat completely still in front of him as if afraid to even move a muscle, which he probably was. Waving the forms in front of his face, the shaii leaned his back into his armchair. He had read the reports from yesterday’s brawl. There were various versions of yesterday’s fight but it was clear that Goten bore little to no fault in it.
The prince cast his eyes over the third-class again. Although he couldn’t be sure, there was not a scratch on Goten externally. It seemed hardly conceivable after a fight with eleven elites. The youth was supposed to be a bloody victim. The shaii had seen the eleven elites in the morning and they were the ones who had been victimized. He was going to run out of punishment options if this continued.
“Sir…?” Goten asked tentatively as the silence started ringing in his ears threateningly. His forehead was sticky with sweat. It seemed he was suffocating and he badly wanted to undo the buttons at his neck.
The shaii lowered the forms onto the desk. He crossed his arms in front of him. “Tell me, Goten, why did those forty savars interfere?”
Confusion became apparent in the third-class’ eyes. “Sir? What forty savars?” he asked.
The officer gave him a thoughtful look. So Goten was playing an idiot again. He could understand why Goten’s roommate and his friends stood up for him. What he could not exactly understand was why the females had interfered, especially when five of them were elites. Not to mention another twenty-seven people who had just joined in the fight because somebody had heard that Goten had been cornered by elites. All of them were second-class; luckily, the fight had been broken up before more elites got wind of this and it had escalated into an elites versus second-class clash.
The shaii had questioned a few second-class individuals about the reason they had interfered. It immediately became apparent that everyone was supportive of Goten: some had taken a liking to him after the incident at the Laundromats, some were impressed with his swordfight, others sympathized with him after hearing the rumors of their fellow savars being caught drinking and watching pornography in the kitchen. Yet others liked the current food, which was provided for breakfast, lunch and dinner, and wanted to make sure no one disturbed the flow.
Goten squirmed uncomfortably under that blue-eyed gaze. He felt as if he were under a lens of a microscope. Then his eyes caught a tiny photograph of himself on one of the hundreds of documents among the stacks of papers on the shaii’s desk. This didn’t bode well.
The prince ruffled through his shoulder-length lavender hair. He remembered he had read about something similar in Goten’s profile from his paramilitary school, something about forming a gang. It was a questionable fact but it seemed that even back then people used to crowd around Goten. Very likely they were doing this of their own accord. He wondered whether Goten was aware of this. Of course he must be - one must be aware of half of the base being friendly with him.
The shaii took up his makeshift fan in his hand again. “Do you want to press charges for an assault on those elites?” he asked Goten while waving with the forms in front of his face.
Goten’s eyes rose to the prince’s face to stare at him in utter disbelief which was on the verge of turning into anger. He quickly got hold of himself and shook his head. “No, sir, I don’t.”
The shaii gave him a scoffing glance. “Oh? And why is that?”
Angered by that glance, Goten dropped his eyes to his hands on his lap. He fidgeted with the lower buttons on his shirt. “Well, I’d think it’s just because I’m somewhat fond of my life, sir,” he said, raising his head with a bitter smile on his face. To his surprise the shaii smiled back at him knowingly and nodded.
“Yeah, thought so.” The shaii started ransacking through the piles of papers on his desk. “Ah, here,” he said, holding a bunch of papers. He pushed them over the desk for Goten to see. “This is the account from the canteen. The previous month exceeded the usual budged by twenty percent.”
Goten took the account in his hands. He leafed through the pages awkwardly. Numbers, suppliers and articles of food flowed in charts. He wasn’t familiar with accounting but he was able to make out the most. In a minute he raised his head to look at the officer. “Sir?”
“I wanted to know what you have to say to justify these expenses.”
Goten broke into cold sweat. He had not expected this. His brain started squeaking with effort. “Well, sir,” he started, “I could say that quality requires effort. In this case effort also includes money. In addition, the savars’ performance during drilling and lectures has considerably improved. It’s all thanks to the balanced nourishment they are getting lately. Sir, I am certain that sacrifice of some money is nothing in comparison to the savars’ achievements.”
The shaii cleared his throat and tried very hard not to burst out laughing. “Indeed, indeed,” he nodded.
A more careful look at the shaii’s face made Goten realize that the man was just teasing him. Just as he had suspected, the shaii had known the outcome even before sentencing them to the kitchen duty. Now Goten was becoming wary of the real reason for this conversation.
Goten wasn’t looking at him and the shaii followed his gaze down his desk and to the corner of Goten’s personnel file which lay on his desk. The prince shuffled other documents off the file and took it in his hands. Goten’s eyes followed them. The prince waved the file in the air.
“Why are you here?”
From the papers, Goten’s eyes snapped to the shaii’s face. Here it came, the reason.
“Umm… Because I got into a fight yesterday?” Goten tried tentatively. The shaii’s murderous gaze made him curl deeper in his chair. “I have no idea, sir.”
The blue sea in the prince’s eyes was stormy. Goten’s personnel file flopped back onto the desk, making Goten start.
“Are you sure?” the prince pressed further.
Goten nodded. “I’m sure, sir. When I got the call-up papers, I thought this was a mistake and called here to check. I was told Hataro Officer Training School made no such mistakes. If there was my name on the envelope, then it was meant for me. They told me to stop bothering the reception and present myself here in a month. Or else…” Goten left it hanging.
“And what about your brother?”
“I don’t know, sir, but I’d presume that his case was identical to mine.”
As if playing, the shaii lifted the personnel file again. He weighed it in his hand. “Is anyone else aware that you’re a third-class?”
“Ario and Toharu, sir; we attended the same paramilitary school. I think I have seen a few other familiar faces, but it’s very likely that by this time they have decided they have confused me with someone.”
“I see. What do you think would happen if everybody realized you’re a third-class?”
Goten frowned. He could not detect any threat in the officer’s voice but it bothered him. “I think they’d beat the shit out of me.”
The shaii gave him a somewhat surprised look. “You think so?”
“Half-breeds can’t be trusted and third-classes are scum,” Goten repeated the popular saying amongst the Saiyan population. “Ugh.” He winced as he belatedly realized he was staring at one of those half-breeds.
The shaii’s eyebrows rose a fraction, but he shrugged dismissively. “I think “scum” is worse than “can’t be trusted” anyway,” he said.
“Definitely, sir,” Goten agreed eagerly.
The prince chuckled, amused at his efforts. He let the personnel file drop from his hand. “But Toharu and Ario are your friends even knowing that you’re a third-class, aren’t they?”
“Umm… To tell you the truth, sir, I think both of them might have a few screws loose, so they shouldn’t be taken as typical.”
Goten’s demonstratively innocent face made the shaii laugh softly. He leaned back in his armchair and crossed his hands behind his head. It was so stuffy in the office. He would not be surprised if he got a headache from this heat and paint stench. He tried to think what he should do with Goten but because the conversation was over, his brain didn’t seem to want and come back to think about it.
Goten was absentmindedly staring at the stains of sweat under the shaii’s armpits when suddenly the man lowered his arms and stood up. He opened one of the drawers in his desk, took his wallet then started walking towards the door. He motioned for Goten to follow him. “Let’s go to Matilda’s to grab a couple of drinks – this heat makes me thirsty.”
Goten decided that it would be in his best interests not to question his good fortune. Docilely, he followed his superior outside. It was hardly cooler outside but at least there was no smell of paint. He took a few breaths of clean, albeit hot, air. They rounded the building and entered the officers’ club. Goten blinked a few times to let his eyes adjust to the sudden half-light inside. The blessed coolness of the air-conditioned room surrounded them.
The shaii led him to one of two tables in the corner of the club, which was free of people. There had been a lot of saluting on their way. Goten had received a handful of pitying looks, which made him think he must have looked like a lamb led to slaughter.
Maybe he was one.
The owner himself rushed to them as soon as they had gotten comfortable at the table. “What would you like to order, sir?” he asked expectantly.
“Two Demedras,” ordered the prince.
Goten’s eyes went wide and his hands waved in front of his chest. “Sir, I still owe you a beer for the last time. Let me repay that.”
“Oh, right,” the shaii remembered. “Four credits, was it?”
Goten nodded. Relieved, he exhaled as the slightly disappointed owner crossed out two expensive Demedras and wrote down beers instead. Goten’s relief quickly passed as he met the prince’s amused gaze.
“You have just saved two credits,” the shaii said after the owner left to fulfill the order. “And this while returning four to me.”
Goten blushed lightly. “One could say I’m broke, sir.”
“But you just got paid yesterday?”
“Well, sir probably remembers that I had to buy two uniforms. Then I still need to return a handsome sum I borrowed from my friends.”
“And what about your father? Doesn’t he support you at all? You’re his only son now.”
Feeling somewhat uncomfortable, Goten scratched his head. “It’s not that. He sent me off with a generous sum but a lot of stuff happened and I had my card debited with over a thousand credits. Besides, I think I’m past that age when one runs to his daddy because of every mere trifle.”
“Hmm…” the shaii hummed. “I’ve noticed earlier that lower classes, especially the third-class, are more inclined to solve their problems on their own. I presume it is because they almost never know their mothers and mostly they grow in children homes. And when they don’t, their fathers are always on missions anyway.”
“They are also most aggressive, sir,” Goten pointed out. “For exactly the same reasons.”
“Well, yeah,” the shaii agreed. “Similar to dogs. Fighting for food and attention at every turn.”
The shaii turned to the owner who brought two mugs of beer. He thanked and pulled his closer to himself. He motioned for Goten to start drinking and took a sip.
“So what breed am I, sir?” Goten asked after tasting his beer. He let out a content sigh when cool pleasant liquid slid down his throat.
The prince gave him a confused look. A few moments later, he realized what Goten was talking about. He flustered lightly, but it didn’t seem that the youngster was offended any bit, he seemed rather amused. The shaii awkwardly cleared his throat. “I’d say German shepherd,” he said finally. “Definitely. You remind me of a German shepherd.”
“Oh? What kind of breed is this, sir?”
“I saw them on Earth when I stayed with my mother. They are large dogs with fur mostly colored black and tan.”
Goten waited for more description but the shaii continued sipping his beer and it didn’t seem that he would continue.
Goten smiled into his mug. “Uhh, sir… I’m not sure whether I should feel bad or very bad.”
The prince chuckled. “I’ll leave that for you to figure out.”
Goten sighed then took a deep gulp of his beer. Over the rim of his mug he took a few stealthy glances at his superior. The blue, usually stormy gaze now was peaceful, dreamy, the shaii’s face relaxed, giving away his young age. The prince was attractive, the uncommon lavender hair and blue eyes being not repulsive, but somehow exotic. Goten wondered if he had a lover. Probably he didn’t. Despite everyone being awfully polite and ass-kissy with him, there was a considerable amount of distance among the prince and others.
Amused and at the same time somehow bitter, Goten explored the froth in his mug. He was a third-class and the shaii was a prince, but the result was pretty much the same – people kept their distance from them both be it out of distaste or overblown respect.
“So what about your differentiation tests?” the shaii asked, noticing that the third-class’ mood was dropping rapidly into the gutter.
Goten’s deep sigh vibrated over the table. “So far we have had one in piloting and sir knows how I did in it. Tomorrow come fighting skills.”
The shaii nodded. “Yeah, that was a disaster. But no big deal.”
“It was a quite big deal to me, sir,” Goten protested, pouting.
“Hmm? You wanted to be a pilot that badly? So that’s why you looked as if you were on the verge of tears. But what’s so interesting in piloting a piece of junk?”
Goten blushed lightly in shame then blinked in surprise. He had not thought much about why exactly he had wanted to be a pilot. “Ugh.” He shrugged. “Well, I figured space is more interesting than the ground.”
Thoughtfully, the shaii started drawing with his index finger on the dew that had concentrated on the side of his mug. “Yeah, this kind of thinking seems to be a common trend amongst first-years. But I can’t remember space ever being alluring to me.”
“Mmm… Maybe it’s because it was that sir was forced to travel to and fro from Vegeta-sei and Earth as a kid? I imagine this could kill any thrill.”
The prince considered this. He nodded. “Yes, maybe you’re right.”
Goten looked at his watch. “I’d dare to presume, sir, that this conversation isn’t a part of the investigation. What about my drill, sir?” He gave the shaii a pleading look. “The sergeant already hates my guts more than anything.”
The shaii looked at his wristband. “To hell with the drill; you’ve only twenty minutes left of it anyway. I’ll just make sure you’re on time for your kitchen duty.”
Goten suppressed a sigh and took another sip. He wondered whether the shaii was oblivious to the curious looks thrown their way or if he didn’t care about them. Officers and savars must be wondering who the heck he was and what it was with this visibly relaxed atmosphere instead of an interrogation. Goten rubbed his forehead and tried to turn in his seat so that his face would not be visible to others.
The shaii saluted him with his mug. “Don’t mull over failing the piloting test. I’m convinced that you’ll do much better concerning your fighting skills. One really must be skilled enough to escape from elites as many times as you.”
Goten let out another sigh.
The shaii shrugged. “Well, I don’t think they’d try anything again. You have a quite large supportive group – even elites should find it hard to stomach.” The prince’s right eyebrow rose a fraction. “Not to mention your own defense harem.”
Goten gave him a confused look then it dawned on him and his face painted red. It was not that he had asked the females to help him. Actually, he had been surprised that they had.
“You’re probably the only third-class male who caught the interest of so many elite females,” the prince teased him. “And to think that just recently they were ready to tear you to pieces!”
“Sir, please, that was a misunderstanding,” Goten shook his head. “And they’ll definitely do that if they ever find out that I’m a third-class.”
The prince shrugged again. He finished his beer and motioned for the owner for a refill.
ooOoOoOoo
Goten stepped out of his barracks and looked around cautiously. The coast was clear. He shot down the stairs and ran straight for the first barracks. Once inside, he patted his pocket, content. Eighty-seven credits was the exact sum that he had borrowed from Toharu for drinks. Eighty-seven credits was not a large sum to be bothered about so much, but right now even a loss of five credits would considerably tell on his financial situation. He could not risk a random elite trying to beat those credits out of him.
Taking two steps at once, Goten reached the landing on the second floor and turned into a long corridor. He found the door he needed and pressed on the handle. He stepped into another tiny corridor with three doors. One of them led into a tiny bathroom, and other two were savars’ rooms. The door to Ario and Toharu’s room was ajar, and Goten reached for it with his hand. He stopped in his tracks as he heard gasps and moans wafting from behind the door. Carefully, he moved closer to the door and stuck his head through the gap to look at what was going on there.
Ario’s bare, flexing, backside was the main feature of the room. There was a bouquet of colorful bruises spread over his muscular back and legs, and the left side of his face was still blue and swollen since the encounter with the elites. His trousers and underwear were pushed down his legs where they pooled around his ankles. Toharu’s trousers were lying in the middle of the room, behind them. Ario had Toharu pinned to the wardrobe, the other male’s legs locked around Ario’s sides. Toharu was gripping Ario’s shoulders, his head reclined, his mouth open and gasping every time Ario drove inside him.
Both of them were bare from the waist down. Goten could see that the buttons of Toharu’s shirt were undone, the shirt ruffled up between them. Ario was very interested in the small strip of skin running below Toharu’s neck and between his shoulder blades. He was licking and sucking on it between thrusts while Toharu’s hand was on the back of his head, liking the treatment.
In a few moments, Ario raised his head, and Toharu eagerly responded to the sloppy kiss Ario gave him. Then he groaned as the larger man’s hand slipped between their bodies to stroke him in time with his thrusts.
The sight took Goten’s breath away. He knew he should leave them to their business but simply couldn’t tear his eyes away from the rhythmically moving bodies. A light sheen of sweat was already covering Ario’s back, their thrusts and grunts growing more and more desperate for release.
Goten started as Ario’s half-lidded eyes suddenly fell on him. The Saiyan seemed momentarily startled then a brief smirk appeared on his lips. Ario’s gaze fixed on Goten, not letting go. Ario snapped his hips forward with more strength, making both Toharu and Goten gasp. Not breaking the eye-contact, Ario continued to pound into his lover.
Goten was flushed, the front of his pants stretched over his erection. He didn’t even try to cover his ragged breathing. But he knew that what Ario was doing right now – staring into his eyes and giving that lopsided smirk wasn’t an invitation to join them, quite the opposite – Ario was stating his claim on Toharu, telling him that Toharu was his and he should keep away.
Toharu’s nails clawed at Ario’s back desperately as he grew closer to orgasm. As Toharu suddenly began to tighten, Ario, not managing to suppress his pleasure, broke the eye-contact with Goten. Panting roughly, he dropped his forehead onto his lover’s shoulder.
Toharu came soundlessly, his face contorted in pleasure, his teeth gritted, body arching off the wall. Ario followed him several seconds later, a low satisfied grunt filling the air.
In a few moments, Toharu’s legs unwound from Ario’s waist and he dropped his feet to the floor. He leaned against Ario to catch his breath. He looked at the door but there was not a sign of Goten. With a soft thud, Toharu propped his forehead against Ario’s collarbone.
“Why did you let him watch?” Toharu murmured silently.
“Because I know you get a kick out of it,” Ario leaned down to hum into Toharu’s ear, biting on his earlobe.
“Mmm…” Toharu moaned. “That’s so, but what would you have done if he decided to join us?”
“Hmm…” Ario hummed thoughtfully while taking a condom off. He tied a knot and threw it in the direction of a bin. “I’d have probably tossed him out the window. You know my views about sharing.”
“Man, you’re no fun.”
Chuckling, Ario pulled his trousers up. Then he started maneuvering them towards his bunk. He grabbed Toharu’s pants on his way. They dropped to the mattress. Both were slightly regretful they would have no time to enjoy the afterglow, since their roommates would soon return.
Ario watched his lover belting his trousers. “When will you tell him that you’ve passed the piloting test?”
Toharu groaned. “Never?” he offered.
Sighing, Ario sat up. With his fingertips he trailed a large bruise on Toharu’s right side. He felt anger well up in him but he also knew that they were lucky not to have any broken bones. Besides, Toharu always loved a good fight.
“And how did you manage to pass while marking everything at random?” he asked Toharu.
“Fuck me if I know,” Toharu whined, flopping back into the bunk. “I don’t know shit about piloting. I hate planes. I like feeling solid ground under my feet!”
Ario’s arm curled around Toharu’s waist to draw their bodies closer. “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he nodded dismissively. “Just make sure you screw up the next time.”
ooOoOoOoo
After the visit to the toilets and relieving his pent up frustration, Goten left first barracks. On his way to the kitchen, he saw Ranvera walking in his direction. The large man limped slightly. Ranvera had probably sustained the most damage from his friends. Goten didn’t see but had heard that he had also been knocked unconscious. Goten’s eyes slid from Ranvera’s black and blue face to the laptop he was carrying.
“Hey,” Goten greeted him as they approached each other. “Aren’t you afraid to carry that around?” he asked, motioning at the laptop with a tilt of his head.
Ranvera looked at it. “Well, yeah, but I think they’d also need about two or three days to rest. Besides, with a fight that turned into a free-for-all… I don’t think they will be coming after us anymore. Not directly.”
Goten nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of. It could turn out real nasty if you know what I mean.”
Ranvera shrugged. “Well, elites are the same everywhere.”
Goten scratched his head sheepishly. “Sorry for getting you involved in this.”
Laughing, Ranvera shook his head. “Nah, it was my own choice.”
Goten grinned at him. “Your face doesn’t look it.”
“Yeah, hurts like a bitch. So where are you going?”
“My kitchen duty starts in five minutes.”
“I see. I’m heading to Toharu’s to return the money I borrowed.”
“You too?”
“Huh? You did, too?”
“He’s like a bank.”
“He’s one shrewd guy, that Toharu,” Ranvera agreed.
“Taken, though,” Goten reminded him. “And actually just a few minutes ago,” he added, grinning.
Ranvera gave him a questioning look but then it sank in. Scratching the short stubs of hair on his head, he chuckled. “Then, I suppose, I’ll wait some. I’ll go with you to the kitchens.”
“Alright,” Goten nodded. “Oh, right,” he remembered. He pointed at Ranvera’s laptop. “Can you show me what a German shepherd looks like?”
“What’s that?”
“Apparently some kind of a dog from Earth.”
“Why would you be interested in something like that?”
“I just got called one a few hours ago.”
“Ooo, interesting. Wait a moment,” Ranvera said, opening his laptop. It buzzed to life and Ranvera started browsing. “Oh, here it is,” he said after a moment. He turned the screen towards Goten, who leaned in closer.
Goten looked at the picture closely then scratched his head. “I thought it would be worse. Like some horrible tiny disaster of a whiny dog.”
Ranvera turned the screen towards himself again. “Hmm… It looks okay, I suppose. Big too. It probably weighs some fifty kilos. Here: Strong, intelligent, good abilities in obedience training,” he quoted the site. He raised his head. “Well, I don’t think the person who called you that wanted to insult you.”
“I’m not so sure about “obedience training” part...” Goten drawled.
TBC
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