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Completely Up To You	By : chroniclyflaming Category: Dragon Ball Z > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 773 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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Chapter List
- 1-Completely Up To You
- 1
The prompt: Y x 17 = Babies?

Yamcha and Juunanagou have been together for some time when Nana suddenly decides he wants to have a baby. Madness ensues, as they try to figure out how they'd go about it.

Either: (a) they adopt a random Namekian, or (b) they ask Juuhachigou to be a surrogate (and she reluctantly agrees to it).

How Yamcha reacts to the situation is completely up to the anon that takes this prompt up.

The fill:

Juunanagou had just collapsed across his own larger chest, both heaving, sweaty, fevered. “Oh, okay, that was definitely fantastic. Better than usual, even.

“And you were pretty good too.”

“Thanks,” was all Yamcha managed out, trying not to pass out again and perform that mandatory small talk the android insisted on. It was easier to do, without having to look at the tan face and the pale blue eyes. How much time had he devoted to looking at the unnerving icy irises, and the darkened face? Noting the contrast, until Juunanagou would lean over and distract him in a whole ‘nother way?

“So.” The lithe form was slithering over him. Unheavy, solid. “Yamma?”

“Huh?” For all the jokes he’d heard on TV about having your genitals hurt for not having sex, they didn’t talk enough about them aching after sex with violent blue-eyed lovers that got off on yanking your hair and slamming you against the walls of your bedroom. If there had been more warning, he might not be worried about his hurting penis. Jeez, one of these days, Juunanagou was probably going to break it, or rip it off, and be all ‘woops, did I do that? Hm, see you later? Once you get that fixed, of course.’

Then he wouldn’t see the dark-haired man for another several weeks, leaving him to sleep in an empty bed and wonder about the chains of monogamy and how strongly they looped around him. And how strongly did they tie Juunanagou down? Was he really out there, knocking down trees with his head and chasing wolves? After all, their own whatever had started from less than normal relationship standards.

But after so many years, he was used to this. Couldn’t even imagine Juunanagou not acting this way. It was just in his nature. And probably since the android didn’t age, he still acted the same as when they’d officially met without the words ‘trying to kill Goku’ in the forefronts of their heads. Not his fault, necessarily. Yamcha closed his eyes.

Fingers pressed into his back, tracing the scars as they always did. Juunanagou didn’t have a single mark on his body, anywhere.

“Yams?” A pause that in retrospect was heartbreaking peaceful. “I wanna have a baby.”

“No, Juunanagou, I actually would have preferred it if you meant you wanted a baby ‘to eat!” He was torn between throwing his coffee mug at either the wall, or at his boyfriend, who sat there, all normal. All sweetly sane. Like he wasn’t some weirdo who popped out with saying things like ‘we should totally go to your apartment and have sex for awhile’ after having just met an hour ago and after a uncomfortable conversation that lasted five minutes, or ‘that was alright, see you later, maybe, but you gotta get better at giving head’ after that strange round of sex after those five minutes of conversation, and now, years later, ‘I want to have a kid, stop freaking out, yes, I’m serious.’

Juunanagou had no right to act like he was the oddball.

“I would like to have a kid. Hey, my biological clock is ticking—“

“No, it isn’t.”

The longer-haired man continued as though he hadn’t been interrupted. “And I would like to have a child.”

“Too bad. How can you have a kid!? With whom? With me? Because that’s not how nature works, buddy.” His forehead had broken out in sweat that seemed to be running all the way down his back.

“Yes, I know.” Those chilly eyes rolled upward, asking Dende why oh why was Yamcha so stupid. Even if he had used the word 'whom.' “Obviously, we would either adopt or—“

“WHAT? No, no, you can’t be serious. This is just pulling my chain, right?”

“I’ll do that later, if you want. But I’d like to have an adult conversation here, for once.” He and his twin sister had the same glare that would make Yamcha and Krillin fold like damp paper. Yamcha reached for a sugar packet, trying to remember how Juuhachigou and Krillin had decided on a having a kid. Krillin’s awkward blurting out of ‘oh, yeah, Juuhachigou’s pregnant’ at a get-together at Chi-Chi’s, and that’s why she couldn’t be here, because the morning sickness left her unable to move five feet from the bathroom.

From what he could recall, they sort of hadn’t spend much time sitting down the discussing it; Marron had been seemingly brought into the world from too much beer at one of Bulma’s parties and a lack of birth control.

Maybe it was really, really better that Juunanagou was a guy? Or else Yamcha’s apartment would be swarming with blue-eyed, dark-haired kids, asking where their other ‘Daddy’ was. He’d wanted to have kids, forever ago...a different lifetime ago. “Oh, like you’re the mature one here.”

“What I was thinking of, was either adopting, or asking someone to be a surrogate? Maybe my sister?”

“Oh god, oh god.” He could just imagine Juuhachigou’s reaction to that. And Krillin’s. And everyone else’s, once they heard.

“Yeah, I think she would want to help us. She’s used to childbirth.”

As though Juuhachigou had fifteen kids rather than the single one.

Juunanagou was grinning spectacularly. “Krillin had mentioned awhile ago about talking about having another kid; we can all be one happy family.

“I don’t know much about how that works, but maybe Juuhachi would be willing to sleep with someone besides Krillin? Then you can live out your fantasy.”

“Of what? Sleeping with her? That’s not one of my fantasies! You didn’t tell her that, right? Her or Krillin?”

Juunanagou blew politely over his coffee cup. “I only want maybe one kid. For now. Later, we can have more.”

Fear crept into his voice. “More?”

“No more than say, six?”

“There’s no way, for so many reasons.”

“Juuhachigou doesn’t age. You seem virile enough, what’s the problem?”

Yamcha just gaped at him. Nice to get a compliment. Horrible when taking in the context. “Juunana, no.”

“You want a kid too, right?” The teenager leaned across the table. “C’mon. You don’t want to be the father of my love child?”

“Shut up. Eugh, no way your sister goes for this.” The strangled feelings he had for the skinny brat whom he adored and loved in every sense of the word death rose up. Wanting to shake the guy to death, and to wake up curled next to him, blessed and cursed by the neat white smiles, the taste of the other man and the way he would open his mouth beneath Yamcha’s own, the knowledge that Juunanagou knew all this and knew it well.

He shrugged thin shoulders. As couples who’d been together for so long, verbal communication was no longer necessary, Yamcha could read his gesture as: We’ll see.

Oh, no.

“I kinda miss Future Trunks, at this moment,” Krillin said, with a sigh.

“Me too,” Juunanagou chirped, before shoving his face into the shorter man’s shoulder. The ex-monk tried not to shudder or flinch away. Yamcha took a little comfort in that; at least it mean that his lover/boyfriend/whatever/partner wasn’t spending his weekends regularly here at Kame House, balling Krillin’s socks off. On the other hand, he might have just been doing that to someone else, wherever.

And yet, haha, here he was, thinking of having a kid—hell, nearly in the attempt of having a kid, with this man whom he didn’t entirely trust. The father of his child, snuggling with another guy, while they waited for said guy’s wife to stop having a panic attack in the bathroom she’d locked herself in.

“I mean, at least he was sane.”

“Enough for someone with that stupid hair, maybe.” The darker android heaved his own long exhale into Krillin’s ear. “Do miss the abs. And the dimples on his back. He was sweet, though, in a strange shy country boy way. But then, that’s what we have you here for, huh, Krillin?”

“Trunks grew up in West City. I think. At least, what was left of West City.”

“Huh?”

“Nevermind. Hey, you’re kinda strangling me, here, Juunana.”

Yamcha had to grit his teeth, and wait. For a clear ‘no’ that would send him and Juunanagou away. Maybe, maybe they could get a dog, or something. A little fluffy puppy. Then they could drop this thing and go home and pretend to be normal. Maybe Juunanagou would stop by more if he had a puppy to keep him amused.

Juuhachigou had laughed her head off, smiling at her husband, “I see. Aw, how cute, my brother’s trying to start his own family.” Her expression amused, pretty, and reminding Yamcha of Juunanagou’s comment on fantasies. That bastard. He’d stared down at his shoes while the pair continued talking.

“And I was thinking you’d been the surrogate.”

“Haha---what?” Her eyes had gone flat and cold.

Krillin looked across the table, frowning a little. Then his own gaze going frigid and aimed at Yamcha.

“Yes. We want you to be the biological mother to our kid. You should feel honored.”

“You’re joking.” Then she straightened in her seat. “You’re not.”

“Look, nine months of your time. That’s all we ask.”

“That is not all you’re asking! You want me to give birth to your damn kid! Like I didn’t already have to go through that once. What makes you think I’m doing that again?”

“Because you love your family.” His voice was deep with sincerity and compassion. “You’re the good one. The one who can have kids, that loves her little brother and wants to help him start his own family. So he won’t start stopping by, every week.”

The ice-chip eyes were focused on Krillin, who could only stare back, alarmed. “Every. Week.”

“Knock it off,” Juuhachigou growled. “Stop right there.”

Krillin’s cheek was flushed and he was nearly squirming in his seat. He nodded towards Yamcha. “I thought that’s what he’s here for.”

“Oh, sure. But still. Still.” His cheery grin made everyone in the room uncomfortable. “Look, Juuhachigou, you’re the expert at this.”

“No, I’m not! Don’t you remember when I got pregnant? How awful that was.”

“For everyone,” her short husband muttered.

She glared at him. “Exactly. It was not pleasant. I don’t want to go through that again. I wouldn’t do that for myself, or for Krillin. Why would I do that to help you and this idiot?”

“Hey. Hey, I—didn’t want to do this either.”

“Juunanagou, even your baby’s other daddy doesn’t want to have a kid.”

“Well I do.” The darker android pouted. “Just one. You can’t just give me one kid?”

Just then an arguing Marron, Oolong, and Master Roshi came in through the doorway, sick of emptying out of the kitchen just to give the foursome time to talk. The little blond kid, who seemed perfectly normal and healthy, (just for sake of argument; it wasn’t like Juuhachigou had given birth to someone with six arms…though, Juunanagou would probably have no problem with having a kid with extra arms, to hold more guns) paused, and looked at her uncle rather frightened.

“Daddy?” The pig-tailed girl looked from one person to the other. “Mom?”

“See, Juuhachigou,” her twin leaned in closer, all big hurt eyes. “I just want one of those for myself.”

Ah, going for the ‘mother’ card, trying to play that angle. Juuhachigou was fiercely loving and protective of her daughter, and the tall fighter himself could remember the group’s unease about her disappearing at the sight of her holding the baby. Her strange fears about holding Marron right, how normal she could appear with the kid and surrounded by the stuffed animals that had been given, the soft look on her face that had made even Chi-Chi begin liking her.

“You know that I wouldn’t make a bad father. And Yamcha would adore any kids we have. I used to babysit Marron, and she seems to have survived.” The slim fingers were plucking at his glass, face turning distraught. “Really, you want me to be normal and not some creepy guy who lives in a cabin out in the middle of nowhere. And now I do want to start a family, a normal family. ”

Juuhachigou was not made out of ice and metal, despite the jokes Juunanagou had made. You could see her resolve being peeled away. To Yamcha’s horror, and Krillin’s moderate surprise. “Can’t you just adopt?”

Exactly what Yamcha had been pulling for, because just shoving this on Juuhachigou’s and Krillin’s laps was pretty screwed up. Plus Marron, who would have like a half-sibling/cousin, which was all kinds of weird.

“I’m not having his kid,” the blonde nearly shuddered, but Yamcha found himself able to ignore that. And Krillin’s amusement, as well.

“I’m not going to do anything,” she said with a nervous glancing look at her daughter. “Like that. Or even in a different way that is less likely to make me kill myself.”

“But what if you let Krillin knock you up again, and let us take the kid off your hands?”

Now Krillin was shaking his head. Master Roshi settled down nearby, just staring quietly at the scene. Oolong was trying to distract Marron with cartoons. Juuhachigou looked ready to brain her twin brother.

“Dear god. Are you going to end up on the news, after kidnapping some kid? Like some crazy person that grabs pregnant women.”

Where did a person even go to adopt a kid? An agency, right—oh, oh no, he was seriously thinking about this, not just humoring Juunanagou. Yamcha could imagine himself getting into his car, with his bipolar boyfriend, and going to pick up some kid. Kids, even. His lover wanted six. A nice big happy family.

“Maybe. We’ll see. You’re not leaving a lot of other options,” Juunanagou hissed out air, frustrated. “Or, if that’s not okay, what about our favorite purple-haired—“

“Shut up now. No,” the blonde woman seemed to reflect fully on what he’d said. “Oh god no, no. Never. I just can’t even imagine—why would you even say such a thing.”

“Yeah,” Krillin rubbed the back of his neck. So strangely okay with all this. Shouldn’t he be pissy about his wife maybe having someone else’s kid? His dark eyes kept drifting down to Juuhachigou’s midriff, face softening. Maybe thinking about her having another kid, the sop. “I don’t think he would go for that. For many reasons.”

“He doesn’t have to know. Just get him drunk.”

Have to get him liquored up so much, and so often, that it would kill Trunks’ liver, for those six kids Juunanagou wanted. Why so many--? What about just one to raised, wasn’t that insane enough? Just a single a dark-haired little kid with Juunanagou/Juuhachigou’s pale blue eyes, taking that kid to the park, showing them how to swing a little plastic bat, molded for small hands. Maybe wearing an orange gi, the back reading that he’d been trained by Yamcha, a gap-toothed smirk that he knew so well.

“Look. Just go and lie, and ask Bulma to make up some fake records so you and Yamcha can take in some orphans.”

There was a lump in his throat, a burning scratching in his eyes. He was beginning to tear up. Just right there at the table, like a goddamn idiot weirdo, and everyone was slowly looking at him—Juuhachigou was more than a little afraid.

Someone who would look up to him, that he would have to take responsibility for, and not in the Juunanagou/Bulma/Vegeta-got-drunk sorta way. A little kid that would call him ‘Dad,’ and he had wanted that so long ago. It had been something he’d slowly put away and buried, like his gi and training and the old tendency to steal things.

And hadn’t Juunanagou brought those old things out, hadn’t he met Juunanagou again by nearly wrestling with him, hadn’t he wore his gi for the laughing cyborg until Yamcha made that smile cease, hadn’t Juunanagou nearly made him begin taking up shoplifting to impress the forever teen?

With the skinny little weirdo, Yamcha felt younger and more full of hope than he had before he’d met the guy. A kid, a kid would be really…sorta great.

The cage’s door began to fall closed.

Yamcha awoke from another nightmare, nearly vomiting. All over Juunanagou’s back, which really would have endeared him to the crazy cyborg teenager. This entire situation was nuts. To even be sharing a bed with the guy that in a different timeline, murdered everyone. To even be sharing a bed with a guy. And his friend’s brother-in-law/brief fling.

Oh, and now he wanted to have some kid, bring up a kid in this house that was filled with various swords and guns. And with that strange android to help raise him, and for the odd guy’s twin sister to give birth.

Juunanagou snored into his pillow, the noise a soft ‘skkiiiiieee’ sound over and over again.

Juuhachigou hadn’t caved in, and Dende bless her. She had refused to turn herself into some incubator for nine-months, didn’t want to have a child (another child, she hastily mentioned to Marron), didn’t want to go through the process. ‘Fuck blood ties’ was her general response to Juunanagou talking about biological kids and passing on of genetic traits, “like, like our awesome hair!”

When they’d finally been kicked out, Juuhachigou was completely freaking out and trying to hide it from her daughter. And Krillin was making this coo-ing face that he got around things he thought were adorable, and was asking her maybe if they could have another baby, since Marron was old enough not to drop the kid and no longer got her head stick in-between the bars on the stairs.

Now he was nearly throwing up, as though he were pregnant. Ironic, impossible, yet still his hand trailed briefly to his stomach.

Safely flat. Yamcha could breathe again.

This is what Juunanagou did to him: had him awakening in the middle of the night to check if he might actually be pregnant. And to be both very relieved, and slightly disappointed to find he was not.

You didn’t need to be some psychiatrist with years of training to understand his dream of waking up in some homey little cabin, small children running underfoot. Most of them had been dark-haired, some with blue eyes, and others with his own familiar shade of black. But many definitely didn’t look like either Yamcha or Juunanagou. It was like some confusing commercial for some cereal, where the entire family came running down the stairs and asking for their favorite whole-grained breakfast. But that there were like a dozen kids running around, and all wanted something from Yamcha, that he couldn’t give or didn’t know. They ran underfoot, chirping, tugging, yelling. And Juunanagou was there, in the kitchen. Smiling, cooking pancakes and telling the little ones to calm down. It was such an obvious type of dream.

The cabin, not so clearly, had belonged to Juunanagou. But cleaned up, devoid of animals that ran underfoot or hung from the ceiling to creepily watch Juunanagou do his best to get into his pants. Cozy. Comely. The place you could raise a kid without being afraid of having a set of horns fall on them. Its roof had even been patched up and whole. Windows streaming in light.

“Yam? Yammy?”

“Huh?”

“Mmm.” A luxurious stretch that exposed all the tan lean limbs beneath the sheet. “You okay?”

“Fine.” Yamcha rolled over onto the cyborg, a smile crossing his face. “Just lovely.”

“Good to see you in such a nice mood. A really good mood. Huh.” Juunanagou patted his back. “Good for you, getting on top for once.”

That wonderful friction between them made Yamcha smile. “You know, if we have kids, we won’t be able to do this all the time.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. Kids sleep a lot, don’t they?”

“You’ll have to live here, or have me live with you out in that shack—that will need to be cleaned up for any babies.”

“As long as you do the cleaning.” Juunanagou kept calm, just arching his back and pressing against Yamcha. Smirking, longish hair falling nearly to his shoulder.

“Do you even know how to take care of a child? You haven’t even been with one for years, have you? You don’t know how awful it can be.”

“My sister and Krillin survived.”

“You’ll see. I’ll make you take Goten and Trunks out for a day. Then you’ll see.”

“Sure, fine. Maybe we’ll head to the firing range; I don’t mind.”

“You’ll see! It’ll be awful, they’ll probably try killing you. Something will explode.”

“Sure, Yammy.” A tanned hand slid up his back, so quick that the fighter hadn’t noticed it until it was creeping up past his shoulders until it was grabbing at his hair. “Yams?”

“What now?”

“Thanks, you know, for—“

“Allowing you to be crazy. Allowing you to drag me into your craziness.”

“’Allow,’ hell, you should be begging to be so close to me.”

“God, you’re the worst. Worse than Bulma, really. Really.”

“Yeah. Except I haven’t left you to go screw some short man. At least,” he paused. “Not yet. And I would never have sex with that an angry little troll.”

“How come you’re always so good at cheering me up?”

The teenage android shoved Yamcha up, before sliding down the bed. Face casual. “’Cause this.”

“Oh. Oh, yeah. At least. Still. At least you’re not doing stuff with Vegeta. You know, ah, you know. It was when he came back to Earth, with the Nameks. That’s what started it. And I was.” Yamcha watched Juunanagou’s dark head sliding up and down his length, head bowed almost in prayer. Both fighters. “Dead.

“And Vegeta was playing hard to get, and Bulma loves a challenge. She probably got the poor tro—man—alien, drunk. Did I ever tell you about some of the Capsule Corp parties? Uh, uh, and man, even those Nameks were supposedly—from what Mrs. Briefs was saying.

“You know. Nevermind. That’s ruining the mood.”

“Oh, it’s okay.” Juunanagou breathed heavily onto the tip of Yamcha’s increasingly strained erection. “Go on. I know you fighters have some weird thing for Piccolo.”

“What—no, don’t explain. And all I meant was that some of the Nameks were shooting out eggs left and right.”

“Were they?” He sounded bored.

“Yeah. Baby Nameks running amok. Crazy. Almost wish I’d been there.”

“’Babies’?” Because Juuhachigou was apparently right: her brother was truly a crazy person who was probably going to snap and kidnap a pregnant woman. All he had were children on the mind. That’s probably what this entire thing was, just a way of convincing Yamcha to go yell at Juuhachigou to get pregnant again, by whomever, and let Juunanagou adopt them. Maybe if she really did get pregnant by Future Trunks, the guy she seemed to strongly dislike, she would really give the kid up—as long as it had his purple hair. Or not. Oh, oh, hell, she would never agree to carry anyone’s kid by Krillin’s, and even then she seemed totally reluctant to have a second child with her husband. Krillin probably wouldn’t give his child up, either of them, if she did get pregnant, and--

Juunanagou was driving him insane. The wild thoughts, the crazy dreams, the insanity of thinking for a second that he might be pregnant himself at any point in his life…the craziness was contagious.

The android was going on, thoughtfully. “Nameks take forever to age, don’t they?”

“I guess.”

“And they’re strong, compared to humans.”

“Um.”

The longer-haired man had to lead his boyfriend by the nose to get the point. “And Bulma has a ship that could take us to the planet where all these Nameks are, and their children. Some of whom are presumably orphans. There are always orphans.”

“Oh—oh, no, I. I don’t think that will work, that’s pretty…” But Nameks did have a long lifespan, and were strong, and Bulma probably did have a ship capable of going to outer space. Now that homey cabin was filled with green-skinned children, antennas everywhere.

And since they lived so long, Juunanagou wouldn’t be alone, after Yamcha, after he—“Oh, Juunanagou.”

Maybe his biological clock was ticking, but it was ticking away to make Yamcha’s own age, and the time they had left. So sentimental for the guy that spent so little time here with his lover. But then, that could be chalked up to the fear of losing him. What did he know exactly, he wasn’t a therapist?

But specifically mentioning the aging thing had wounded Yamcha, had left part of him blinded from the pain of what was to happen in the future. How Juunanagou might feel about that. It had been so long since he seriously thought about death, shoving it aside with, ‘well, I’ll get to go with the other fighters.’ But now Yamcha could see the man besides him, still on Earth, alone. Forever, until some enemy of the planet wiped him out.

No, goddamnit, he wouldn’t allow that. Couldn’t. He grabbed the cyborg by his shoulders, yanking him up to stare at the winter frost eyes. “Okay, okay, we’ll talk to Bulma.

“We’ll see.”
- 1
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