Work Text
Goku let out a startled squeak when one of Vegeta's energy beams swished past him a little too close for comfort, but in the next second already, he readied himself for attack. This time, it was the older Saiyan who only barely escaped a sizzling hot energy beam.
They were at it for hours already, completely forgetting the time as they always did during training while laying waste to their surroundings in the mountains, their clothes dusty, torn, and sweaty, but none of the two men showed any sign of fatigue. They were so immersed in their fight that they didn't notice dark clouds accumulating with incredible speed. Even the first raindrops which changed into a torrential downpour very soon were ignored. A violent storm approached, and regardless of the by now worryingly large lightning bolts cracking and twitching around the two fighting Saiyans, they continued their training undeterred. The energies they set free in the process surpassed the power of the brightly sizzling flashes by far after all so that they were in no danger whatsoever to get seriously hurt by a lightning bolt of all things.
With maximum force, the two warriors clashed against each other in the rain-lashed sky, their hands, brightly shining with energy, intertwined in a battle of wills. None of the two was willing to budge even one centimetre. Unrelenting, they stared at each other while the muscles in their arms flexed until they were taught as bow strings ready to snap.
Out of the blue, a sudden bright, burning hot pain went through the Saiyans. They felt themselves fall.
Then, everything went dark.
“Papa? Papa! Ev'rything alright?”
Quite roughly, Gohan gave his father a few hefty slaps to get him to wake up.
Trunks wisely refrained from employing this method to his own father, instead he simply shook his shoulder. “What are we gonna do?” Worried, he looked from Goku's sons to Piccolo before the other half-Saiyans looked hopefully at the Namek as well.
Who just shrugged at a loss.
“They seem fine. I think it best to simply bring them home, and wait that they wake up by themselves.”
“That's all?!” Disappointed, Gohan looked at his mentor.
“And what, pray tell, should I do? Shall I take your father to your mother so that she can kiss him awake, or what?”
“Funny,” Goten barged in reproachfully.
“Tell that to your jokester of a brother,” Piccolo hissed back. “I'm not responsible for everything.”
“You're the cleverest in the whole team. You always think of something.”
“As flattering as that may be, kid, in this case, the only thing I can think of is to let them be. Be honest, do you sense any grave injuries except for their usual training injuries?”
“No,” Gohan had to admit. It astounded him profoundly that his father and Vegeta obviously had been struck by lightning, and although they indeed hadn't carried away any serious injuries, because of the powerful electric shock, they had lost consciousness.
“I think a Super-Saiyan normally sets free a whole bunch more powerful energy than a lightning bolt,” Trunks thought out loud.
“You can bet your ass on that. And when they throw their own ki-balls at each other's heads, nothing happens to them then either.”
“Yeah, yeah, 'u've convinced us, Piccolo,” Goten said with a wave of his hand before he stood up. “Come, Gohan. Let's take him home.”
Together with his brother, Goten set about taking their unconscious father home to deliver him into the care of their mother.
Pensively, Trunks looked after his boyfriend and his quasi brother-in-law. Then he looked up at Piccolo. “You taking him with you?”
“Yes.”
“But you...”
Reproachfully, Piccolo drew up one
eye ridge
. “I'll contact you should something be the matter.”
Trunks smiled. “Thanks. Take care of him, yeah.”
“Do you expect any different from me?”
“No. Of course not.”
“He'll be way better off with me than Goku with Chichi as soon as he wakes up,” Piccolo chuckled, and Trunks grimaced in sympathy.
“Oh yeah. He'll have to endure just another rant of accusations to kindly be more careful, and not act so irresponsible. And that he, in general, should quit the stupid brawling.”
“And that in her pitch.”
Mentor and pupil grinned at each other knowingly, but nonetheless pained. After all, there was nobody who hadn't experienced the dubious joy of Chichi's screaming rants. Especially for sensitive Namekian ears, these shrill sounds were pure torture. That had always been the reason why he'd never visited Gohan, instead letting the boy find him. Aside from the fact that Chichi didn't want him in her home because of his supposedly bad influence on her baby, that was.
The next morning, Goku woke up with a vicious headache. Every fibre of his being hurt, and he wondered why the hell he felt this way. And what had happened anyway?!
Ah, now he remembered. During yesterday's training with Vegeta, a storm broke loose. And then... he could only remember fiercely burning pain. Were they really struck by lightning? At least it felt like it.
Groaning, he painfully turned on to his back, but he froze when suddenly an arm wrapped around his waist, and pulled him against a warm, naked body. A cautious look down presented him with the image of a green-pink coloured arm lying limply on his stomach which definitely didn't belong to Chichi.
“Sleep on,” a sleepy, deep voice murmured next to him.
With a startled, completely shocked squeak, Goku hurled Piccolo's arm and the blanket away from him, and jumped out of bed, ignoring his headache for the moment.
Alarmed, the bewildered Namek sat up, wide awake all of a sudden.
Frantically, Goku tried to only look him in the eye since his long-time friend was naked. He was, too, he noticed with a downward look, and normally both didn't bother him, but at the moment, the situation was too awkward, too surreal to feel comfortable in his own skin. And... strange... something seemed to be wrong with his perception. The distance to the floor suddenly seemed to have lessened...
“Could you please explain what's the fucking matter with you?!”
At the sound of Piccolo's angry voice, he looked up at the Namek again who glared at him, cross and confused.
“Did that lightning fry your last remaining brain cells now, or what?!”
“Really, Piccolo, that's not very nice of you!” He laughed nervously, and took a step back from the enraged green man.
Piccolo's eyes widened in shock. “Nice!?” Disbelieving, he shook his head. “You've gone mad. I'll get Dende,” he stated irritated, and attempted to fold back the blanket.
“No!” Goku cried, and turned around hastily.
“I'm really becoming offended here,” the Namek stated, peeved, and abruptly aborted his motion. To not traumatise his severely confused mate even more, he slowly climbed from the bed, and let his clothes materialise on his body with a snap of his fingers.
With all of his might, he tried to let his voice sound calm. “Vegeta, what's going on?”
His lover's body froze once more. Hesitantly, the Saiyan looked at him over his shoulder with wide eyes. He was utterly clueless. “What? What did you call me?”
Now he'd had enough. Expectantly, Piccolo crossed his arms before his chest, and stared at the older man distrustfully, but then thought better of it, and went over to Vegeta. He reached out his hand to grab his wrist, but the other startled back from him like a frightened animal.
“That's it. We're going to Dende.”
To make Vegeta feel more secure, Piccolo conjured the prince's clothes as well, but managed to grab Vegeta's wrist despite the Saiyan's displeasure, and pulled the surprisingly meek man towards the door.
Crossing the room, they passed a mirror where the confused Goku managed to get a fleeting look at himself. Alarmed, he let out a startled yelp, and froze on the spot abruptly.
“B-but... what,” he stammered.
Piccolo had stopped as well, and scrutinised Vegeta, slowly becoming really alarmed about the Saiyan's strange behaviour, even terrified.
Relieved, Goku exhaled when he suddenly realised what had happened, as incredible as it may sound. He now was confronted with the problem though that he had absolutely no idea how he should solve his dilemma. But fortunately, Piccolo was here. He would think of something!
“Piccolo, it's me – Goku!” he cried, and spread out his arms, clearly relieved.
Piccolo continued to stare uncomprehendingly at him, now completely sure that Vegeta had lost his mind for good.
“You don't believe me, hm? All right...” Goku pondered the situation for a moment, then he snapped his fingers triumphantly. “Ah. I know. During our fight in the Great Tournament,
I flew into your mouth when you were so huge, and I retrieved the bottle God was trapped in.”
“Yeah, still got a sore throat from it,” Piccolo replied cynically. “And?”
“Vegeta can't know that,” Goku cried in triumph. “Can he?” Faced with Piccolo's stony mien, he wasn't so sure any more all of a sudden. “Oh okay, maybe you told him about that. Let's see...”
“Argh, Quit it.” Piccolo was fed up with this nonsense, and gripped Vegeta or Goku – that would be revealed in a minute – by the shoulder to hold him in place, and put his other hand to Vegeta's temple. For a short moment, he concentrated on the other's aura, and flinched back in the next second. Disbelieving, he stared at his opposite. “Goku!?”
“Told ya so.” Content but relieved as well that Piccolo believed him at last, Goku crossed his arms before his chest. “I really have to say I'm hurt that you didn't believe me.”
“Alright, I'm sorry. But something like this hasn't happened even to us.” Privately, Piccolo wondered, confused and a little bit ashamed as well, why he hadn't noticed right away that Vegeta's soul wasn't inside his body. He should have sensed it. But, honestly, it was damn early in the morning which followed a stressful night filled with concern for the prince, and an even more taxing day yesterday. He was entitled to not being quite awake yet.
“Eh, wrong, it happened to me on Namek,” Goku's explanation brought him out of his musings. “With Ginyu. And then, it turned out to be almost fatal for us.”
“Aha. Whatever. Then we should head over to yours now to think of a way to reverse the whole dilemma. Can you still do Instant Transmission?”
Goku thought this over for a moment. “I should. It's a technique of the mind, not the body. So, it shouldn't be influenced by me being stuck in another body at the moment.”
“Very well. Come on.”
“Ehm, wait a moment.”
Questioningly, Piccolo looked at Goku.
“I'm hungry.”
Only with great difficulty, Piccolo could refrain from hurting his oldest friend very, very badly, in the course of that damaging his mate's body. Although, Vegeta probably would have been completely understanding for this.
“We're going!” he bellowed, and Goku flinched, smiling placably since he knew that it was much wiser to comply when Piccolo was in such a mood.
The first thing Vegeta became aware of when he woke up with a pounding headache was the strange smell surrounding him. Confused, he scrunched up his nose. He'd expected to be surrounded by Piccolo's familiar scent as every morning, but this... Kakarott!
He was completely surrounded by Kakarott's scent... and that of his wife. Yuck. What the hell was happening?!
Blinking, he opened his eyes with some difficulty, and struggled into a sitting position.
“Dad!”
Hearing this happy cry, he looked in the direction of the door. Kakarott's youngest son stood there, and beamed at him. “You're awake! Are you all right?”
Goten stormed to his father's side who only looked at him in confusion.
“Mum, Dad is awake!” the younger Saiyan called for his mother over his shoulder who stormed into the room only moments after her son. Despite her loud ranting and raving, she looked at her husband full of worry.
“I can't let you out of the house without having to worry that something happens to you! Always the same!” she ranted reproachfully, but nonetheless soothingly caressed his arm and his forehead while propping him up.
Horrified, Vegeta reared back. “Don't touch me, woman!” he snarled at her, and tried to stare her down in his dumbfounded state.
Chichi fell silent abruptly, and stared at him, thunderstruck. “What did you say to me?” she whispered dangerously soft.
“But, Dad, what's up with you?” Goten asked, surprised – and a little shocked, too, that his father actually dared to talk like that to his wife –, and scratched his head in confusion.
In that moment, Gohan stepped into the room, immediately noticing the unusually bad mood his father was in. He'd never seen Goku like that.
“Are you out of your minds?” Disbelieving, Vegeta stared from one to the other. Had all of them lost their minds?! “What the Hell am I doing here?” he demanded to know brusquely. Kakarott's family however stared at him as if it was him who was batshit crazy. The harpy looked ready to boil over or have a stroke while the two boys stared at him, flabbergasted and deeply concerned.
“Dad, somehow, you're not yourself,” Goten murmured, and scrutinised his father from head to toe.
“Dad?! Why do you... Am I in the wrong film or what?!” Speechless, Vegeta continued staring at Kakarott's family. What the heck was happening here? Did he miss something? Then, with a bang, he remembered, and sank back into the pillows with a heavy sigh.
“Of course!” he murmured. “The storm.”
Worried, the two young half-Saiyans had stepped closer.
Gohan perched on the edge of the mattress, and reached out towards his father, in the end didn't dare to complete the move though.
“What do you mean?”
“What happened yesterday?” he asked, without reacting to Gohan's question.
“Ehm, well. You and Vegeta trained during a storm, and apparently you were struck by a lightning bolt. We found you both unconscious, then took you home.”
“That's the only logical explanation...”
“You're scaring us. What is the only logical explanation?”
Vegeta suddenly looked up, directly into Gohan's overly worried face. Much too shocked about his conclusions to give a gruff answer, or ignore Kakarott's sons in the first place, he started explaining his theory still kinda numb. “Listen, boy. I'm not Kakarott. We must have switched bodies when we were struck by lightning.”
Chichi looked as if this was beyond her belief, Goten made a soft, startled squeaking noise, and Gohan couldn't rear back fast enough, and fall from the bed with shock.
“Vegeta?!” he asked, dumbstruck, and scrambled up from the floor.
“Exactly,” the older Saiyan confirmed.
“And so much for Piccolo's suggestion to just let them be, surely nothing has happened to them because of this teeny-weeny lightning,” Goten grumbled in shock while he threw nervous glances at his father who obviously wasn't his father at the moment.
“We should go to the palace immediately. Piccolo and Dende can help.” Gohan looked from his brother to his... well, to the other Saiyan. Because he believed it. There was no other way to otherwise explain the strange behaviour of his father.
“Okay, then come on.” Vegeta was glad to get something to do which everyone could clearly hear in his voice. He was much more comfortable bellowing orders instead of being paralysed by this strange, numb, helpless calm. A little relieved, he stood up and grimaced when he looked down at himself, noticing that he was stuck in Kakarott's horrible orange clothes.
A sudden soft rustle made everyone spin around.
“Piccolo, oh thank Dende!” Gohan cried in relief.
“Dad?” Goten asked hesitantly in the direction of Vegeta's body.
He threw the boy an encouraging, sheepish smile. “Hi, son.”
Vegeta felt his jaw threaten to drop when he spied his body at the other end of the room, and with that stupid grin on his face to top it all. He could consider himself lucky that he hadn't had breakfast yet because at that sight, his stomach turned. His sudden energetic confidence went out the window, and instead, incredible fury and indignation gripped his whole being. He felt the vein at his temple starting to throb madly, and he had to grit his teeth lest he growled at someone in outrage.
One look at Goku's face was enough to chase away even the last of Piccolo's doubts because the phenomenally bad mood Goku displayed was clearly Vegeta's mood. His expression was wholly that of the prince, and it unnerved him to see this look on someone else's face. They seemed to have been just in time because it was highly necessary to do some damage control right about now. What joy that this always seemed to be his job. On the other hand, the uneasy feeling in his stomach about the imminent explosion warred with the immense relief to have his mate's soul and body back together. Admittedly, not united inside the right body, but one step at a time.
“You've noticed as well, I see,” Goten drily greeted his mentor.
“Indeed,” he replied through clenched teeth. Just thinking about the fuss earlier was enough.
“Great. So, what's the plan?”
Piccolo stared darkly at the youngest Saiyan. “How the hell should I know?!” he cried indignantly. “I wasn't that far yet.”
“All right, all right.” Goten disarmingly raised his hands in front of himself. “Jeez, you definitely spend way too much time with Vegeta. His mood's rubbing off on you.”
“What's that supposed to mean, boy?!”
Goten flinched. He'd completely forgotten that Vegeta was actually in the room. Smiling sheepishly, he threw the pissed off Saiyan a look over his shoulder.
“Ungrateful brat,” Vegeta grumbled, but was prepared to postpone Goten's deserved dressing-down in favour of solving the actual dilemma first.
“Could please somebody explain this to me really slow!?” Chichi's shrill outcry suddenly sliced through the uncomfortable silence.
The assembled men stared at her in bewilderment when they noticed that she was still here, too.
“Did I get that right that Goku and Vegeta swapped their bodies because of this lightning that struck them?!” she concluded for herself without waiting for further explanations from one of the others.
Collective nodding was the answer.
“Why always me!?” she then sniffed loudly, and threw herself in the arms of the son who stood closest to her. “Is it too much to ask for that normal things happen this family for once in my life?!”
While Gohan consoled his mother, Goten hesitantly turned to his father, still a little shocked about the whole affair, and that he now had to look down on his father to top it all. “Hey, Dad? Really gross what happened to you. What's it like to be stuck in another's body?”
Goku shrugged, not noticing Vegeta's frowning, sceptical look. Goten did, though, and he had to swallow. He prayed that his father didn't say anything wrong now! He should have kept his damn gob shut.
“Oh, you know, back then on Namek, when I was stuck in Ginyu's body, the whole situation was much too crazy and dangerous for us all to give this body swap any closer thought, but when I think about it now, it's really strange.” Goku shrugged once again. “Physically, I feel pretty normal, only that my perspective is completely wrong. Who would have thought
that
Vegeta is
that
short, seen from his perspective, and...”
He didn't get any further because suddenly, the whole house shook, and a bright flash of light filled the room when the older Saiyan, frantic with rage, turned Super-Saiyan, and wanted to lunge for Goku.
“Let me go, Piccolo!” he screamed at his mate who had managed to hold him back in the last second, tightly clutching the unfamiliarly tall body to himself with all of his might to keep him in check. Quite roughly, he twisted Vegeta's arms onto his back, but the Saiyan still struggled with all he had. “I'll kill him!”
Over Vegeta's shoulder, he threw Goku a nasty, reproachful look. “Why can't you simply think for once before you put your foot in your mouth?! He's testy enough as it is even without your stupid, thoughtless comments.”
The corners of Goku's mouth began to curl up in a sheepish grin, but it froze in Goku's face by Vegeta's enraged outcry.
“Listen carefully, Kakarott,” Vegeta hissed, breathing heavily while still fighting weakly against Piccolo's hold. “I don't know how long we'll be stuck in each other's bodies, but I promise you that I will kill you very slowly and very painfully if you make a fool out of yourself in my body!” He glared at the other Saiyan, and snarled at him. “Meaning: No demented grinning. You will eat civilised, and not like a pig like you usually do. You will refrain from this stupid, sheepish laugh while putting your hand behind your head like an idiot, ergo, you won't touch my hair, and, you will restrain yourself with stupid comments. Better yet, you don't speak at all!”
Out of habit, Goku wanted to throw the older Saiyan a sheepish, conciliatory grin, but thought better of it in the last second, and got his facial muscles back under control as well as his hand that had wanted to rise towards the back of his head automatically. “All right, Vegeta,” he replied as composed and as serious as possible.
This calmed Vegeta down somewhat again so that Piccolo could take the risk to set the Saiyan free. “We could tie him up, and gag him until this problem's solved,” the Namekian proposed softly after taking a deep, relieved breath.
Vegeta let out a consenting “hmpf”, and crossed his arms before his chest while still throwing Goku menacing, warning glares. “I quite like that idea.”
Goku wanted to protest, but remembered to shut up in the last second.
“Okay, could we please go to Dende now?” Gohan whined suddenly into the silence, and looked from one to the other. “This is much too creepy for my tastes.”
“Cry-baby,” Vegeta retorted.
“Told ya so. Do you understand now how he almost drove me spare back then?”
“Hey!” Gohan threw his beloved mentor a pouting look, puffing up his cheeks in affront. “That's got nothing to do with the topic right now!”
“High time it has been said though,” Piccolo retorted stubbornly. And it hopefully distracted Vegeta from his bad mood which would be much healthier for all involved at the moment.
Only a few moments after Goku had teleported his sons, Vegeta, and Piccolo to the Lookout, the young Kami met them in front of the building, Popo in tow. He frowned when he scrutinised the two Saiyans as well as his mentor.
“Oh dear,” he sighed. “That's quite a mess you got yourself into.”
“You can tell that the two switched bodies with one look?” Gohan exclaimed, astonished, and stepped up next to his Namekian friend.
He nodded. “It's pretty obvious,” Dende explained, exasperated.
Goten grunted in amusement. “Hmpf. Maybe for you. It took us a while, and in the meanwhile, we thought Dad had gone spare.”
Vegeta pointedly cleared his throat next to the young Saiyan which made him flinch, caught out. “It's true,” he mumbled, but to be on the safe side, brought Piccolo between himself and Vegeta.
“Since you had an answer at the ready for our shrinking dilemma back then, I assume that's the case for now as well.” Vegeta fixated Dende with a piercing glare and expectantly raised eyebrow.
The young Namekian laughed sheepishly. “Let me think about this for a few minutes, Vegeta, but I'm sure we'll find a solution!”
A little nervous, he grabbed Popo's arm and pulled the Djinn a few metres away from the others to consult with him zealously.
The few minutes while the conversation lasted felt like hours to Vegeta while he became more and more impatient, at one point starting to pace around restlessly (the other alternative would have been taking out his frustration on Kakarott who unfortunately was stuck in his own body at the moment).
“We got a solution!” Dende suddenly cried, laughing excitedly while he came running back to his friends. “It's just a theory, but I think it's worth a try.”
“Problem has to be solved the same way like it came about,” Popo explained.
“Huh?” Goku exclaimed in confusion to which everyone sighed exasperatedly.
“They want to fry us with another lightning, you idiot!” Vegeta snarled at the other Saiyan impatiently.
“Ah, I see,” Goku laughed in relief, but then he froze. “Oh, I see,” he repeated in a more monotone sounding voice when he realised what Vegeta had told him just now. “Oh, not a nice image.”
“I'm not exactly enamoured of the idea either, but I would do everything to get out of your body,” Vegeta snapped back, and, in an incredibly bad mood, crossed his arms before his chest before he turned towards Dende. “Then get on with it. Conjure a storm.”
“Wait a minute!“ the Namek defended himself. “This could take a while. For once, I've never done something like that, and second, even God is no express train.” Dende glared back when Vegeta stared him down with a sullen look. “First, I have to conjure the storm, then it will take a while for it to approach.”
For a few seconds, Vegeta engaged in a staring contest with the Namekian Kami before he turned away with a huff. “Hmpf. If you say so.”
“In the meantime, we should eat something,” Goku and Goten suggested with one voice while Gohan proposed a “we could train in the meanwhile”.
Suddenly exasperated and not being able to bear the presence of one of the other Saiyans for one second longer, Vegeta grabbed Piccolo's wrist, and pulled the Namek in the direction of the palace.
“Where are you going?” Piccolo asked, but nonetheless followed Vegeta readily.
“No idea. Away. I'm currently dealing with the shock, and I can't surround myself with those cretins while doing it.”
Nodding sympathetically, Piccolo followed his mate inside the palace.
Side by side, Piccolo and Vegeta strolled through the maze-like corridors of the palace to distract themselves from the ongoing lightning-preparations.
“Are you nervous?” Piccolo asked at least, throwing a glance at Vegeta out of the corner of his eye who paced about beside him.
The Saiyan shrugged. “Maybe.”
“You're not fooling me,” Piccolo chided his mate. He looked at him with a raised eye ridge.
“Yeah okay, dammit, I am nervous,” Vegeta snapped back. “I'm scared shitless that it won't work.”
“It will work,” Piccolo promised confidently.
“And what if not? Have you thought of that? You have to think about yourself.” Vegeta's voice slowly took on an uncharacteristically desperate note.
Piccolo stopped, and put one hand on Vegeta's shoulder to get him to stop as well. The Saiyan looked up at him with a deadly serious, insecure gaze.
“I don't wanna lose you,” he whispered.
“You won't,” Piccolo assured him, and pulled him against his body. “You're still you.”
The prince craned his neck, and kissed the younger man, suddenly incredibly relieved while Piccolo tightly wrapped his arms around him.
For a few precious moments, they forgot the world around them, even the lightning-mishap didn't matter for the moment, and everything was as it should be.
They were surrounded by utter peace, alone in the palace, the only sound in Piccolo's ears Vegeta's heartbeat, the soft rush of his blood, his breathing...
All at once, Piccolo froze in Vegeta's arms.
No, everything was wrong! The heartbeat he heard wasn't Vegeta's heartbeat. The rhythm of his breathing was wrong, too, not to mention the scent, and the height of the body in his arms.
Abruptly, Piccolo drew back from the other man, and the bubble they had been in a moment ago burst brutally all at once.
“I'm sorry.” He shook his head apologetically. “I can't do this.”
Vegeta frowned questioningly.
“Well, look at you. You're stuck in Goku's body. That's...“ Instead of finishing his sentence, Piccolo only made a repugnant sound, and only barely refrained from wiping his hand over his lips. He liked Goku, held him in the highest regards, but this was too much.
“Yeah, well, what am I supposed to say?” Vegeta bitched in affront, and screwed up his nose. “I'm not really happy about how I look at the moment either.”
Embarrassed, Piccolo turned away, but Vegeta marched around him, and gently pulled at his antenna as punishment. “Moraliser,” Vegeta chuckled, shaking his head. “And you wanna tell me it doesn't matter to you.”
“Don't laugh, it's the thought that counts,” Piccolo replied harshly, his face beet-red, and he started squirming in Vegeta's hold.
Eventually, the prince took pity on his mate, and released the delicate antenna.
“If it doesn't work, we can still look for the Dragonballs,” the prince stated suddenly, all at once full of new confidence, and started to move again.
Piccolo made an affirming noise, and hurried to follow the Saiyan.
“I can't believe I missed it!” Trunks moaned for the third time in a row while he watched Piccolo take his unconscious father into the palace, and Gohan took care of the equally as unconscious Goku. He'd arrived only minutes after the successfully summoned storm, and after the two Saiyans had been – equally as successful – struck by lightning again. He'd only wanted to enquire after his father's condition, just to learn that he had missed the whole fun.
“It was really creepy,” Goten assured with a grin.
“But you don't know if it worked?”
Goten shook his head. “Dende's pretty optimistic, but we'll only really know when they wake up.”
Disappointed, but at the same time worried, Trunks looked in the direction of the palace.
“There's nothing we can do anyway,” Goten stated, and nudged Trunks. “Let Piccolo take care of Vegeta, and Gohan can take Dad home. In the meanwhile, we should take advantage of our time in a more productive way.”
Trunks
' crestfallen mien suddenly brightened up. He grinned at his boyfriend slyly.
“What do you have in mind?“
The younger Saiyan shrugged innocently. “No idea. Flying into the city, train... have sex...”
Trunks now threw his boyfriend a happy, lascivious grin at this suggestion that the other Saiyan returned from under theatrically shyly lowered lids. “Hm, maybe,” Trunks pondered equally as playful. “I actually do need to do some shopping in the city. And after that, I think I have a little time on my hands.”
“So, do you?”
“Hmhm. And Mum and Yamchu are out the whole afternoon and even the evening. So, we wouldn't be disturbed.”
Grinning, Goten wrapped his arms around the older half-Saiyan. “That sounds pretty... productive.”
“Doesn't it,” Trunks grinned back, and kissed Goten fiercely.
Without managing to wipe the grins from their faces for even one second, hand in hand, the two half-Saiyans pushed off from the Lookout, driven by their thirst for action, and sped away.
Left behind were an indignant Gohan and a chuckling Dende.
“Hmpf. Now I have to take care of Dad while he enjoys himself!”
“Remember how it was when you were young and newly in love,” Dende grinned, causing Gohan to pout.
“When I was young?! I'm twenty-five, for God's sake!”
“Don't take my name in vain,” Dende still grinned.
Grumpy, Gohan threw his unconscious father over his shoulder. “You're all stupid. I'm flying home now.”
And with that, he too sped down towards Earth.
Blinking, Vegeta opened his eyes a few hours later. The same herd of dinosaurs as this morning rampaged through his head, but instead of waking up in Goku's bed, his nose immediately told him that he was home, in his own bed, and that Piccolo lay next to him even before he had spotted him.
“How're you feeling?” Piccolo asked softly.
“Hmpf. My head feels like it will explode any moment, but as long as it's my own, I won't stop it.”
“Good to know,” Piccolo confirmed, and shuffled closer to the Saiyan. Gently, he put his fingertips to Vegeta's temples, and started massaging them.
The older man moaned in relief, and closed his eyes when the pain started to subside.
“I think, next time, this shit should happen to somebody else,” Vegeta murmured, peeved, while enjoying Piccolo's soothing touches. “Haven't we endured enough already! First, we get shrunk last year, and now I got stuck in Kakarott's body.”
“Being shrunken was the best thing that could have happened to us.”
“Hmpf. Right. But I don't see any benefits with this last, fortunately overcome situation.”
“I'm with you on that,” Piccolo grumbled, and heightened the pressure of his fingers. Sighing, he bend over his relaxed mate, and kissed his brow, then the bridge of his nose, and finally his mouth.
Vegeta grinned against Piccolo's lips. “That a new healing method or what?”
“Does it help?” Piccolo chuckled.
“Yeah, can't complain.”
“Good.”
Abruptly, Vegeta's eyes shot open when Piccolo took his cool fingers from his temples, and the mattress underneath him dipped precariously when Piccolo rose from the bed.
“Where do you think you're going?” Vegeta cried indignantly after the Namek who was headed in the direction of the door.
Piccolo turned around again. “Inquiring after Goku, and helping Dende turn off this storm. He won't manage alone, and by now, that thing moved on, and is causing quite the mess down on Earth.”
“That's intolerable!” the prince flared up, and abruptly sat up in bed. Immediately, his headache returned so that he would have loved nothing more than to throw a chi-ball at the disloyal Namek. “You can't simply leave. Can't I expect your loving care under these circumstances?! I have to cope with a severe shock here!”
“My poor baby,” Piccolo grinned in fake sympathy. Ignoring Vegeta's pout, he returned to the bed though, and lay down next to the Saiyan.
“You be quiet,” Vegeta grouched, and indignantly crossed his arms before his chest. “Who didn't want to kiss whom, hm?!” The abashed sudden blush on Piccolo's cheeks was something Vegeta enjoyed to the fullest. Satisfied, he now crossed his arms behind his head, and leant back, relaxed, while he let Piccolo stew who was still sitting beside him with a bad conscience. Thoughtfully, the prince looked up to the ceiling.
“I'm afraid I have to admit that it was refreshing not being the smallest in the room,” he mused through gritted teeth. “And I could reach you much better as well.” He threw his mate a lascivious side-glance.
“You've got other qualities than your size, and...” Piccolo, who sensed that the moody prince wanted to let him know through his comment that he was forgiven, let himself sink back into the pillows, and pulled the Saiyan atop of him to encircle him with his arms. “Where it counts, and benefiting me, nature hasn't abandoned you so shamelessly.”
The Saiyan grunted cynically. “Nice to know that I at least serve one purpose in life.”
“Isn't it,” Piccolo murmured smugly while he started nibbling on Vegeta's neck. Carefully, he scraped the tips of his fangs along the bronze-coloured skin, making the Saiyan in his arms shudder involuntarily, his breathing speeding up in anticipation. Satisfied, Piccolo dug his teeth a little deeper into Vegeta's skin so that they threatened to break even sturdy Saiyan skin. A new, blissful shudder ran through Vegeta, but apart from that, he didn't move even one muscle in the eager expectation if Piccolo would bite him or not.
The Namek decided against it though, instead kissing Vegeta's neck while sliding his big hands over his mate's muscular back. Unerringly, he slipped his fingers under the waistband of Vegeta's trousers until he had located the small circular scar of his tail.
Vegeta gave a drawn-out moan when Piccolo's sharp nails scratched over the sensitive bundle of nerves. With the other hand, he suddenly gripped Vegeta's hip, and rolled them both around. He used his talons to turn Vegeta's clothes into dark blue scraps of cloth within only seconds so that more and more bronze-coloured skin was bared to his hungry gaze. Carelessly, he pushed the ruined fabric to the side, and bend down to lick over one of Vegeta's nipples.
“Is that enough attention bestowed on you now?” he asked, chuckling, before he enclosed the hard nub with his lips.
“Hmpf,” the Saiyan simply replied, notwithstanding the sudden blissful purring he emitted, and leant back with a cheeky grin, his arms once again folded behind his head contentedly. “I'm entitled to it.”
“Of course, Your Highness,” Piccolo replied with another chuckle, and bend over Vegeta's chest again while deep down on Earth, there raged a growling, fear-inducing storm.
But then, you had to set priorities after all.
End