Disclaimer:Language, sexual situations. I do not own Dragonball Z, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. This is a Piccolo/Gohan oneshot I wrote ages ago. Hope you enjoy!
Destinies and ambitions…where did it all go? I wanted to sit on a throne of tyranny, crowned with my own supremacy and watch the bodies burn and the blood stain the world with my hate…did dying change me so? I am my sire's heir, but yet I don't feel supreme, nor entitled to it. The hatred that fueled me and motivated me is gone. All that's left of it is the soot and emptiness. The fire… I am a shadow of the Demon King I was…
Unglimmering onyx fixed blankly on the desert and summits that sprawl into the waking fire of dawn. The arid air and abandonment of his isolation made him feel heavy and hollow. How emptiness could feel like a weight in his chest was beyond him.
'Go and see him. You wouldn't feel so alone if you didn't go to such great lengths to isolate yourself.'
"Leave me be, Nail," the hollowness in his chest escaped into his tone, and Piccolo knew he sounded weak and futile.
'It's been two years…don't you think he would want to see you?'
At the jabbing twinge his counterpart's reminder sent into his chest, Piccolo drove his fist down against the boulder he had been leaning against in his lotus position. It crumbled into jagged pebbles under his blow, causing him to frown. He fisted some of the remains of the boulder and ground them into dust, not relishing how he was lashing out on his surroundings.
"I don't want to see him. It doesn't matter if he wishes to see me." He blankly stared into the sun as it began to scorch the desert below, scintillating as far as the eye could see.
Piccolo set his jaw and bowed his head, crossing his arms tightly to ease the longing that crawled up his skin. I just want it to stop. Seeing the kid will only make it worse… he bitterly thought with forced finality, but couldn't help look up into the aggressive sun bearing down over the vast acrid land.
I want to feel that fire again…
"Piccolo…" his murmur was breathless as it fluttered past his sleep-parted lips. The chirping of birds above his head startled Gohan to bolt up in sleep. The morning sun was trickling past the heavily-shrouded tree branches. He had done it again. "Mom's going to kill me…" he shuffled to press his back against the robust branch of the tree he had fallen asleep under the night before. He sighed.
He felt the weight in his chest. Why can't I just go to him…
Gohan stared at the cloud-drenched mountain tops off in the distance of the valley, wondering how many times he had slept out under the stars and darkness in hopes that he would come to him. His routine of two years; waiting for his sensei to return. While his mother relished the peace and hostile-free environment provided by his mentor's long absence, Gohan felt the emptiness in his chest expand and seep into the flame of his soul with the passage of each new day.
The teenage demi-Saiyan licked his parched lips and closed his eyes, trying to recollect his dream, but failing miserably when the nagging and despondent questions began to stir in his mind.
Why did he leave? Without a word…he didn't even say anything after what happened. Gohan ran his hand through his coarse long and wild hair, gripping it impatiently before letting his hand fall back down to his thigh. Pulling himself up from his lazy sprawl under the tree, he began to inattentively walk towards the nearest freshwater stream. His thoughts were frenzied, his raven gaze vacant to his surroundings.
I'm such a coward…it's been two years and I haven't even made the effort to see him. He indolently sat at the edge of the fluid and misty stream, cupping his hands in the cool water and splashing it on his face and hair, refreshing himself a bit. The water felt so exquisite over his sun-heated skin, so he cupped his hands and drank straight from the cool stream. With a refreshed sigh, he leant back on his splayed hands and looked up at the blue sky, his wide eyes narrowing with internal inquisition.
Sigh…stop kidding yourself, Gohan. If he wanted you to go to him he wouldn't be suppressing his ki signature…
The usually jovial teen was wounded by what had occurred; how he had felt about his sensei and best friend had suddenly deviated over the years into something he couldn't express. At least that's how he had felt until he realized that his feelings were something more arduous. He had hated himself for seeing his sensei differently. He had still looked up into those mirror-like orbs with admiration, but his heart had begun to flutter when Piccolo would ruffle his hair, when he would stare at him with his blank but intense gaze, or just allow him near when all he wanted was his solitude and meditation. Gohan had been furious and bewildered when he began to want so much more than what he had always cherished.
Passion over companionship. The allowance Piccolo had given him had not been enough for the once pupil; his awe had become devotion, hope for something he knew his once sensei could never comprehend, let alone give.
Gohan's naiveté at fourteen was almost staggering. He had begun to develop into a teenager; his body developed into a muscular but slender build, his jaw was becoming as defined as his late father's, and his voice was roughening into a deep tenor that from time to time peeled into his youthful chirp.
His first arousal had terrified him.
He had locked himself in his room, afraid of what his mother would say, and utterly oblivious to what had engendered his body's reaction. Searching anxiously through his science and biology books, he read about puberty, and how the male body changed and began to experience adulthood.
Terror. He was hard, scared, and confused. The only other male in his household was his 3-year-old brother Goten; no one was there to explain the birds and bees, and his mother petrified him to the bone. Unfortunately, there was only one bone that seemed very defiant of him and his anxiety…
The first time he had realized what aroused him was the day he began to hate himself; to hate what he was feeling, and towards who he was feeling it.
Piccolo had grumbled when he had cannonballed into the natural pool, crashing through his ambivalent silence. The spray of water rained down on him as he sat cross-armed on the ledge of a jagged rock that slanted flat just next to the waterfall. He had scowled at Gohan as he resurfaced laughing. He gave Piccolo that goofy grin he had inherited from his father and swam back to float on his back.
"Stop goofing off, kid."
Gohan managed to sober long enough to dip under the cool water and jet over to the ledge Piccolo was sitting on. He surfaced with a lazy sigh and contemplatively stared as Piccolo resumed in his meditation. Unable to help himself, the young demi-Saiyan swam over to the opposite corner of the ledge and pulled himself out of the water. The cool breeze that grazed his nude body made his teeth clatter together as he pulled his long bangs out of his eyes and from matting against his temples. Piccolo sat immobile, detached from his peaceful surroundings. Smiling, Gohan padded over the sleek and mossy rock.
"PICCOLO! WE'RE BEING ATTACKED!" Gohan suddenly shouted, spooking a flock of birds from the canopy of trees around them.
Piccolo went into defense mode immediately and instinctively jumped to his feet into his combat stance, only to end up grunting and yelping as he was playfully speared by Gohan off the rock ledge and into the cool pool of water. Piccolo managed to detach himself from the young teen's arms to reach the surface sputtering water and feeling weighed down by his turban and shoulderpads. He had angrily swum over to the shallow end and burst to flight from the water, hovering menacingly over the pool to glare down at the hysterically laughing boy as he surfaced from the water.
"GOHAN! I am not interested in playing your silly games," he barked down at the boy, who flinched and meekly put his hands up in defense.
"I'm sorry Piccolo, I just couldn't help myself," he replied in a child-like defense, and watched as Piccolo floated back to the ledge, frowning at his soaked garments and clinging cape. Gohan found himself staring, but he didn't know why. Then his mind subconsciously answered for him as he suddenly cajoled, "Hey Piccolo! How 'bout just coming in for a swim? It's refreshing."
Piccolo snickered a scoff. "If I've never wanted to before, why would I want to now," he tersely remarked, and finally managed to get out of the wet tangle of his cape by pulling the weighed shoulderpads off after tossing the turban over to the grassy and mossy ground.
Gohan couldn't stop staring at Piccolo. The wet cloth clung to him, water still running down his arms and throat as he tried wringing the excess water from his shirt. He managed to tear his gaze away when Piccolo glanced at him. He saw his young friend look uncharacteristically somber, and scowled.
Startled out of his mental inquisition, Gohan looked over just in time to catch Piccolo pulling his soaked shirt free from his blue sash and pull it up his torso and off in a quick tug, revealing the upper half of his sculpted emerald physique. Gohan swallowed the lump that rose in his throat, his mouth going dry as he dragged his avid gaze away from his sensei. He felt his face grow hot so he submerged himself and dipped towards the bottom of the pool, feeling the smooth rocks against the palms of his hands and his nude back.
He heard a splash and could faintly see Piccolo's silhouette jet several feet across from him. The sun's rays penetrated over the surface of the water, casting shadows and glimmering flashes of light around him. He realized his lungs were burning, so he pushed off the bottom and burst to the surface.
His hearty gasp for air was gurgled to a yelp when his mouth was filled with fresh water after being splashed right in the face. He sputtered and tried rubbing the water from his eyes.
"C'mon, kid! Are you that off guard? I taught you better," the forcefully unamused baritone sent a chill down Gohan's spine as he realized how near his sensei was to him in the water.
After freeing himself from his matted bangs, Gohan glanced to the rock ledge and saw all of Piccolo's discarded and wet clothes layed strewn in the sun. His sensei was fully nude in the water with him. Another splash brought him back to sputtering and swimming in retreat from the water barrage.
"Ack! Piccolo! You're going to drown me," he jovially protested and started splashing back. He heard a splash of water and looked around for Piccolo, and found himself alone. "Piccolo?" He swam around in a circle, glancing all around in anticipation for his sensei's sneak attack. "C'mon Piccolo, where are you-ack!" he was suddenly yanked by his ankles under the water. Piccolo put him in a headlock under water, and Gohan struggled to break the loose grip. He felt a hot coil begin to grow tight in his stomach and throb down to his apex; he started to desperately flail against Piccolo and broke away to reach the surface. He gasped and panted for breath, feeling his cheeks burn.
"Gohan!" he was turned around in the water by Piccolo. "What is wrong with you? Why are you acting like an airhead all of a sudden," Piccolo stated a bit too harshly than he had intended as he gripped Gohan firmly by the shoulders.
The young teen's thoughts were muddled and wild, and he was so flabbergasted by his sudden physical anxiety that it took him a few moments to realize Piccolo was combing his wet hair out of his face. Gohan mutely stared up into Piccolo's chiseled face, his eyes locking on him in awe.
Piccolo's eyes scrunched as if perplexed. Gohan jerked out of Piccolo's grip and swam away from him to the shallow end of the pool, getting out of the water in a jerky and clumsy fashion.
"Gohan, what in the world—"
"I'm sorry Piccolo! I just remembered mom wanted me home hours ago," Gohan interrupted in a stumbling stutter, his sandy-tan complexion heated as he gathered his discarded clothes and hurriedly put them on.
"Jeez kid, at least dry off before you rush into your gi," Piccolo remarked in a monotone as he swam until he could touch the rock bottom.
Gohan hurriedly tied his sash in a knot and turned to face Piccolo as he tugged his gi shirt over his head. "I'm sorry! It's just I need to get home quick," he gave as explanation in middle of tugging his shirt on. When he looked back at Piccolo, he felt his stomach tighten and the hot coil throb even lower as he stared at the Namek.
Piccolo stood in waist-deep water, drops and trails of water cascading lazily from his collarbones, over his pecs, and down his washboard-pink-patched abs. His natural scowl and intense gaze made Gohan fidget as he pulled his boots on and grabbed the large fishes he had caught for the night's supper. Piccolo just stared in confusion as his old pupil hurriedly said farewell and departed in a blast of ki.
Gohan remembered how perplexed Piccolo's stare had been…how he looked in the water. He hadn't ever seen his sensei that exposed. For nights after, Gohan had lied in bed, trying to conjure up what the water kept hidden beyond Piccolo's waist.
Sitting now by the edge of the stream, Gohan still wondered what Piccolo looked like from the waist down. He licked his lips and touched his heated cheeks as he let his mind wander over the perverse subject.
Trying to fight his feelings away hadn't worked. Here he was two years after what had happened, and he was still thinking of his friend in that way…still fantasizing, dreaming, thinking of Piccolo in ways that were beyond wrong. They had disgusted him. He had been scared of them, of not knowing how his friendship and admiration could have changed.
But here he was; now sixteen and thinking of Piccolo, who he hadn't seen in two years, and wanting so bad for it to be like it was. Here he was, wanting one thing, but desiring something completely different.
His mind flashed to Piccolo in the water, staring at him with that intense and unreadable gaze. He felt his face burn as he thought of feeling himself pressed against that hard, sculpted body. Licking his lips, Gohan shut his eyes and pressed his palm against the formed bulge of his gi pants. Why was he thinking and feeling this way! He felt so dirty, but he couldn't stop touching himself through his loose-fitting pants.
This is how he felt every time the perversion of his thoughts and fantasies overtook him. Whether being alone in his room, lying under the stars, or even in the shower. When it started to happen two years ago, he tried to suppress himself; to curl up on his bed and will it away, or to just think of how much Piccolo would be repelled by him if he knew…
But Piccolo did know. That made his hand pause over his arousal. Gohan fell to his back, staring bitterly up at the eerily and mocking blue sky and its pilgrimage of fluffy clouds. He bewilderingly dragged his forearms to rest over his eyes as he forced the lump in his throat back down into his chest. He felt the emptiness grow and pulse in his chest and his thoughts just dropped around him.
Where had it all gone? His contentment, his jovial glee at being Mr. Piccolo's only confidant and friend…the only person who he had let in. Why did he have to feel this way…?
The world's life went on around him, not stopping or deviating in its routine to console the one mortal that had saved it so many years ago. Not that Gohan would have been consoled. Only the return and closure of the one person that really mattered…only his acceptance or all out wrath could bring him closure.
The mountain air once again. It choked him at first, at how pure it was. His muscles flexed and his hands twitched in trepidation. Why had he come back?
Damn sentiment. I've become such a weak, damned fool…
Was it that elusive of an answer? Of course, deep down, he knew why he was standing on the summit of one of the small plateaus that conjoined with the great Mt. Paozu. Two years of exile had just made the hollow space in his chest ebb deeper…the craving for something had led him back.
It had felt like a spark ignited in a damp cave. The cave was that damned spot in his chest…the spark: his raven-haired friend's whimpers…
Piccolo clenched his eyes shut and ground his jaw. How could he think of him that way…
I'm weak. I'm depravedly weak.
He opened his eyes and scowled down into the lush, green valley. A cool breeze blew up the summit, stirring his cape, but Piccolo couldn't feel it on his skin.
He hadn't felt anything since after what had occurred.
Gohan…the kid. Piccolo had become acutely aware of his old pupil's growing physical maturity. The sniveling little brat from so many years ago had developed into a tall, chiseled warrior; a teenage demi-Saiyan with an unchangeable endearing nature. He had tried to tell himself that the difference he sensed grow between them had been a game of time…not of infatuation.
Piccolo had pushed himself to the physical and psychological brink after he came into the world as his sire's avenger. What would have taken a normal Namekian several Earth cycles to mature into full-fledged child, Piccolo accomplished in less than a few months. His rush into Namekian adolescence had been excruciating. The physiological exertion had been incapacitating, and reaching his Namekian puberty had nearly driven him mad. Hypersensitivity, pain, emotional chaos…
He had grown into a mature Namekian comparable to that of a twenty year-old human male. While not capable of sexual reproduction, he was anatomically capable of intercourse. His asexual reproduction occurred in a swell of glands and nerves deep in a pocket strategically located at the back of his throat.
After more than a decade, Piccolo had thought his hormone influx at birth and premature development had suppressed his sexual desires…the jolting truth had occurred that day at the waterfall.
Gohan…the spawn of that idiotic clown Son. The same eyes…same stupid grin…but such a different soul. A different scent as well. Not that he ever paid attention during those years on the carefree and air-headed nemesis, but for some reason, Gohan stood out in full clarity…
The boy had reached puberty. It undoubtedly played a reason in what occurred. At least that's what the seasoned warrior chided himself to believe.
Gohan smelled like fresh soil after a cool rain. Lately, that fresh soil grew heady…more alluring to him. Piccolo had been able to smell him even when he'd popped back to the surface after that annoying cannonball. After he had left, Piccolo found himself perplexed. He had acted so jittery and anxious around him for a noticeable amount of time. He had figured it to be his imagination. But all that changed when he had felt drawn to go and see him later that night.
The small Son residence sat quietly in the middle of the valley, the starlight and crickets setting the home to scale for him. He knew where Gohan's window was, so he had gone to it, prepared to knock on the glass and see if he could coach the boy into going into a field and telling him what was wrong, but his knuckles had stopped in mid knock when he had looked through the window.
The light from the stars dimly lit the room, but Piccolo could clearly see Gohan, lying half nude on his bed above the sheets. The teen was trailing a hand along his exposed stomach, his eyes shut and his mouth slightly agape…while his other hand was rubbing past the waistband of his pajama pants.
Piccolo watched…he watched with blank avidness as Gohan traced his trembling fingers over a perking nipple, while his hand stroked his hardened member under the loose cloth of the pants. The boy arched, his soft pant escaping his parted lips.
He watched, as Gohan sighed and pulled the pants past his hips and kicked them off, now completely nude on his bed. He licked his lips and ran his hands along his stomach and apex, his ramrod erection bobbing from his shivers and trembles.
Piccolo watched it all…even when the teenage boy dug his heels into the mattress and arched his lower back off the bed. He was so exposed. Sweat clung in a thin sheen over his sandy skin, his erection weeping in pleasure and need. When Piccolo watched the panting boy streak beads of his premature essence over his fingers, he had felt goosebumps go up his spine. But, when he watched as Gohan brought one of the sleek digits to the tight entrance of his anus, Piccolo's mouth had gone dry.
The raven-haired youth had hitched his breath as he inserted the lubricated digit. He began to desperately stimulate himself as he pumped his member in a wanton rhythm. While Gohan tried feverishly to relieve the need burning in his gut, Piccolo could feel his body stirring in a way that felt foreign…and wrong.
However…he couldn't stop watching. His nose was only centimeters away from the cool glass of the window, his hands gripping the corners of the outer windowsill. Piccolo couldn't tear his eyes from the sinful display, even as he watched the boy whimper wordlessly and tears well up in his clenched eyes.
When the boy inserted a second digit, the slight cry he managed to muffle went up Piccolo's spine. Then, reaching the edge of bliss and writhing in need, Gohan plunged his fingers in and out and pumped himself to a frenzied climax. The flushed boy bit his lip hard, stifling his cry as he ejaculated seed over his stomach, thighs, and hands. Collapsing in a heap over his sullied sheets, Gohan groaned and trembled in the aftereffects of his climax, his eyes still clenched shut.
Regaining his composure, the disheveled boy opened his eyes and stared down at the mess he'd made. He sighed, and glanced out the window into the night sky.
Piccolo stood rigidly against the house, his back pressed to the wood as he fought the inner dissidence in his mind and body. When he was sure Gohan had fallen asleep, he had swiftly ran from the house and took flight into the night.
How could he have wanted that?
His body had ached when he watched Gohan heartily climax, and his mind had swum from the boy's stifled cries and whimpers. I even fogged up the glass… Piccolo gritted his teeth in conflict, his memories only making him feel weaker in his need. A need he wasn't certain he should want, let alone take. His cape danced in the wind's current, languidly bringing Piccolo to his present perch.
Gohan. What else would he do to him? The brat had taken the joy out of killing that moronic Son, then had made him grow soft over the years…even made him sacrifice himself and his cause. Now…now after having squashed the fire that had burned so heavily inside him, Piccolo could feel the spark stirring…stirring to ignite that fire once again…
Gohan. The kid. His friend. His bewilderment…his need.
What would it take to bring him back? The thought of world domination was a bitter joke. Mass murder was a sordid bore. But, this need that has seared him from the inside out for two years…it was promising. It was depraved.
Could he taste it and survive?
That spark…could it revive the fire that had died in him? Or, will it break not only him…but the object of his need…
The house was empty. An angry note posted on the fridge instructed Gohan to make dinner for himself, wash up, and get to his studies before going to bed early. She would deal with him next afternoon when she and his little brother returned from Trunks' house.
He had forgotten his mother had mentioned plans of a sleepover at Capsule Corp. Goten and Trunks were thick as thieves, and his mother had complained about being cooped up in the house.
He sighed. The house was deathly quiet. Going to work on the list, Gohan set the dinner his mother left him to heat up. After showering and changing into a plain t-shirt and pajama pants, the teenage demi-Saiyan demurely inhaled his dinner. Sated, he washed the dishes and went to his room, prepared to spend the rest of the late afternoon zoning out to his Statistical Mechanics and Thermal Physics textbook.
Padding barefoot down the hall to his room, Gohan pulled his drying hair into a ponytail, with most of his rebellious bangs coming loose from the tie. He felt tired, and heavy as he turned the door to enter his room. Stepping into his room, he could feel the cool breeze whisk all around the small room, tossing and flicking some loose papers from his desk to flail to the floor.
Gohan froze. He knew for a fact he had shut his window when he came in before.
His heart stopped in his chest. Turning his head to look towards the window, Gohan felt his pulse roar in his veins. Two years…and now here he was. Piccolo… standing in his imposing stance with his arms at his sides, his cape tossing slightly from the breeze entering the window behind him. And his unreadable scowl; intense gaze boring into him from engulfing onyx eyes.
Gohan felt every muscle in his body flex in anxiety. He came back, just like he's been hoping he would for two whole years…but he was so afraid. After so long, he had no idea what to do; to say.
Piccolo felt a foreign turmoil take hold of him. He wanted to make his feelings known, but he felt choked by his own propriety; by his sense of control. The utter panic he saw in Gohan's eyes sent a twinge of disappointment into his chest. His raven eyes had changed. Once so dark but bright, now they were sullen and shocked. His hair was longer than he remembered; the muscular body was now more defined. Countenance more chiseled with maturity. His observations paused on the shocked expression as it morphed into one of anger.
Gohan did not know why anger began to pool in his gut, or why his shoulders began to shake. He set his jaw and glared bitterly at Piccolo, whose semblance remained in that perpetual iron mask, not even changing to what he wanted; a sneer of disgust, or a soft stare of affection.
A twinge shot through Gohan, causing him to square his shoulders.
"Is that it…that's all you have to say, Piccolo?" the bitter edge of the boy's tone caught Piccolo off guard, but not enough to show through his expression. Narrowing his raven eyes, Gohan continued, "You left. You didn't even say goodbye. No one's seen you for two years…and all you have to say is how much I've grown?" his angry tone broke at the end as he balled his fists and unclenched them.
Why was he so hurt by his lack of emotion? Here was his mentor, his friend…his depraved infatuation, returning and acting as if nothing had changed. Gohan couldn't believe Piccolo's lack of emotion was hurting him more than if he had physically struck him.
"What do you expect me to say."
The hard tone snapped Gohan's gaze back to that cold expression. The mask was gone, and in its place was the sharp scowl. Piccolo's gaze turned into a glare. Gohan felt a pang turn his knees into jelly, and before he knew it, he was pressed against Piccolo, hugging him desperately, tightly.
Piccolo did not expect the boy to rush and hug him…nor did he plan to return it.
Gohan felt his warmth pressed against his cheek, his musky desert scent all around him.
"I've thought about you everyday…I-I missed you, Piccolo…"
Piccolo grabbed his shoulders and squeezed, before forcing his embrace away.
Wide and trembling raven eyes looked up at him. The kid was so close…his scent so inundating. He still didn't know why he was here. Why he wanted something that he could not have or shouldn't want in the first place.
Gohan felt his heart squeeze in his chest. Grabbing Piccolo's wrists, he tried to maneuver closer, to really embrace him. "Please Piccolo—I know I—" Piccolo flinched away from him, defensively grabbing Gohan and slamming him back-first against a wall.
The wind was knocked out of him, and he would've crumbled to the floor if Piccolo hadn't gripped him under his jaw and held him up by his arm.
"I said don't!" The rough hiss was right in Gohan's face. Piccolo jerked his jaw so he could bore his glare into the youth's eyes.
"Piccoloh-" the hoarse rasp from Gohan was almost pleading if not limp.
His eyes darting over the boy, Piccolo finally succumbed to his inner turmoil, releasing his grip on the youth and stepping back. Inhaling weakly, Gohan stood on shaky legs and stared at Piccolo.
"What possessed you?"
The harsh inquiry confused Gohan. When it wasn't answered, Piccolo glared at him and bared his fangs.
"I said what possessed you!"
Gohan flinched from the furious tone. "I don't know what you're talking about Piccolo," he said in a woundedly confused tone.
Angry, Piccolo struck him across the face, making Gohan see stars before hitting the ground with a loud thud.
His head swam, his bearings in a muddle as he tried to pull himself back from the dizzying blow. Then his mind hit a sense of clarity.
Because he had needed to…that was the answer. What had possessed him two years ago to act out on his infatuation was the spark in his soul that had compelled his need.
That day of sparring had been effusive on his part. Piccolo had wiped the floor with him, even though Gohan had surpassed him in strength long ago. The boy had wiped the streak of blood from his chin with a goofy smile, only earning a hollow grunt from Piccolo.
Laughing stupidly at himself, Gohan had scratched the back of his head after removing his tattered gi top and tossing it to the ground. "C'mon, Piccolo. I was just trying to have some fun," the boy cajoled as he got back into stance.
Scowling, Piccolo fell out of his offensive pose and crossed his arms. "You should know better than to have fun while sparring with me, kid," Piccolo remarked gruffly to his much-too-playful sparring partner. "If you're done wasting my time, go home and leave me to really train," he had stated sorely and turned in direction to his water canteen.
Gohan had felt a pang at his words. Sure he knew Piccolo was just being Piccolo…but, he couldn't help feel jolted by the dismissal. His feelings were incredibly hard to suppress. His avid stares were becoming hard to conceal, as were his wandering arousals and masturbation sessions back at home.
His need. It was becoming so difficult to suppress and ignore. Even know, scuffed and beaten, he couldn't help stare at Piccolo's back; at the broad and strong shoulders free of their caped canopy.
Before he knew it, he was sprinting toward that strong figure and grappling him from behind.
Piccolo choked on the water he'd been chugging from his canteen as it was knocked out of his hands and his arms were put in a grappling hold. Going into swift evasive action, Piccolo maneuvered out of the hold and tossed Gohan back off of him.
Seeing the playful streak in those raven eyes enticed Piccolo…enticed him enough to smile. "Oh. You think you can take me, punk?" He sneered cockily and crouched as they both rounded each other, looking for an opening.
"I know how to get the upper hand, sensei," Gohan smugly tersed, faking his advance and getting Piccolo to lash out.
"You couldn't get the upper hand if I rolled over and played dead, kid," Piccolo snidely spat, having trouble snagging an opening.
"Then why don't you advance and save me the trouble?" the young punk challenged, smiling wryly at his sensei.
"Cute, but very stupid, kid." In an instant, Piccolo phased out and speared Gohan full force, knocking them both to the ground. Tossing and flipping against each other's grapples, Gohan accidentally hit Piccolo in the jaw with his elbow, earning him a slam against the ground, where he saw stars after hitting the back of his head against a rock.
Dazed, he managed to flip Piccolo off of himself and roll onto his knees, trying to shake the blow off. When Piccolo flipped to his feet, he took the opportunity to tackle him. Slamming into each other's chests, both fighters barked gasps as the wind was knocked out of them. Regaining his focus, Gohan clung to Piccolo and shoved him back, managing to use his momentum to send them thudding against the hard soil.
Unfortunately, they were propelled to roll down a grassy hill, both tangled against each other. Gohan landed hard on top of Piccolo, sweaty, cut, and bruised. Piccolo faired similar, and was panting from having his breath knocked out of him so many times in a row.
Both breathing heavily, Gohan couldn't help hitch out, "Victory!" before he was rudely slammed to the ground and pinned under Piccolo's weight.
"Declaring victory before you've knocked the enemy out; pathetic, kid," he hoarsely mocked, earning Gohan to squirm under him.
Suddenly, Gohan flipped him over his head, and reverse-summersaulted onto Piccolo's chest. "You were saying sensei—eek!"
Piccolo cut his quip off by shoving him back and flipping onto him, swiftly grabbing the boy's wrists to be held over his head as he immobilized his body by pressing his form bruisingly against him.
Both raggedly out of breath, they stayed pressed against each other, trying to catch their breaths as they stared at each other's sweaty countenances. Gohan's eyes were heavy-lidded, and he began to flush and fidget under Piccolo as he realized what the close contact was doing to his libido.
Piccolo felt a hot coil knot in his gut as he was bombarded by Gohan's heady, sweaty scent.
Managing to free his legs, Gohan brought them up to Piccolo's sides and squeezed his hips. Flinching, Piccolo sat up and pulled back, staring heavily at Gohan. Sitting up, Gohan shuffled closer to Piccolo, but Piccolo pushed him away.
Gohan paused, dropping his gaze to his sensei's hands as they rested on the ground next to him. His mind darting back and forth, he ended up looking Piccolo in the eyes.
Piccolo didn't understand how this was occurring. How he was being drawn into a depraved infatuation for his once pupil; he had been like a surrogate father to the kid…and now he wanted to do things he didn't know…
"Piccolo…" Gohan whispered, stirring Piccolo's gaze to focus back on him. Then, without fear or resistance, the demi-Saiyan was suddenly so close. So warm, and sweaty, and…
And Gohan was suddenly inching closer to Piccolo, cradling his handsome face in his hands as he pressed a hard kiss to his sensei's lips. Piccolo grunted and jerked away, only to freeze when Gohan followed his lips and kissed him again, with so much luscious want that he couldn't help but grip his forearms and pull him closer.
Both gripped and grabbed at each other roughly as they kissed, smacking their lips wetly and scrapping their teeth together and against their lips as they turned their heads and jerked/pulled at each other.
Piccolo pulled away from the kiss first, hoarsely panting and hissing as Gohan tried to force his lips back down over his.
Gohan was in a lust-numbed frenzy, his eyes glazed and his grunts for more piquing Piccolo's physical attention. Finally frustrated enough to become more aggressive, Gohan slinked his arms around Piccolo's neck and brought him close enough to crush his lips against his. The wanton action flared something in Piccolo's soul. The coil in his gut burned, growing tight almost to the point of suffocation.
The sensation caused him to sober. Pulling back from the assault, he panted and gripped Gohan's wrists, pulling them from his neck. When Gohan whimpered in protest, Piccolo shuddered and shoved him away, but Gohan held onto his forearms, pleadingly wanting to get close; to feel the fire burning in him pressed against Piccolo's.
Gohan kissed Piccolo's arms and shoulders, trying to coach him back into their hungry grips and kisses, but Piccolo flinched and jerked away, finally caressing Gohan's face and gripping the back of his coarse hair, without meeting his gaze. Holding him at a distance for mere seconds, Piccolo gruffly pushed him away, sitting up with finality and turning his back from the passion-revved youth.
Gohan stumbled toward Piccolo on his knees, only to end up on his hands and knees staring hungrily up at the sweat stain soaked into the back of his plum gi.
Piccolo ached. His body was trying to root him in place; trying to coerce him back into the heat he had just forcefully rejected. The bitter feeling in his mind seeped down into his chest, but he didn't allow it to break him.
Without a word, or a hesitating gesture, Piccolo willed ki to the bottom of his feet and blasted off into the late-day sky. Left in the aftermath, Gohan had crumbled to his side, hugging himself protectively and cursing himself. He had expected so many different scenarios to occur in the event of revealing himself to Piccolo…but none prepared him for the heat he received back; heat that burned him and receded as quickly as it came.
Because he needed to. That had been his reason for revealing his infatuation and acting on it that day. And it was the reason his head was spinning right now, sprawled on the floor of his room with his mind knocked off its axis.
Suddenly, he felt himself get hauled up by his shirt, and slammed back against the wall, making his whole room shake.
"Gohan. If you give me another stupid answer like that," he ground his back against the wall for emphasis, adding, "I will knock the shit out of you."
Coughing and hissing, Gohan shook his head in compliance, and was swiftly let go to fall back against the wall.
His vision was finally focusing after the blow. He looked up at Piccolo through the canopy of his rebellious bangs, feeling his face heat at the intenseness of the warrior's gaze on him.
"Piccolo…I-" he paused in hesitation, diverting his gaze as he tried mustering the courage to tell him. "I needed to…it hurt to ignore it. I'm sorr—"
When he tried to apologize, Piccolo snapped, grabbing him and slamming him against the front of his desk. He knocked the chair out of the way and pressed himself against Gohan's arched form, grabbing his jaw and forcing him to look at him.
"Why apologize? I know you're far from sorry," Piccolo growled in a hiss, forcing Gohan to bend painfully over the desk. "Two years. I was away for two years. Tried to detox from you…nothing worked."
Gohan gasped at the assault he was being put through. "I am sorry! I just needed to—"
"Don't talk to me about need," he seethed viciously, pressing a hand on the desk in order to lean further against Gohan, forcing him to bend even more over the desk. Gohan stared wide-eyed at him. That expression of shock, and not of fear, caused Piccolo to pull back slightly. "Why do you affect me so much?"
The angry whisper caught Gohan off guard. Did this mean…it wasn't one-sided? That Piccolo felt that pull as well?
Before he could voice his astonishment, Piccolo suddenly forced Gohan to sit on the front of his desk, grabbing him by the back of his coarse hair and smothering him with a bruising kiss. Grunting in the kiss, Gohan shut his eyes and fell into the rough passion of it, not even bothering to struggle from the grip Piccolo put on his wrists as he force his hands down on the desk top, which made Gohan's rear edge off of the desk. In this captivity, Piccolo was able to nudge his knee between Gohan's legs, ripping a noise of such heat from the raven-haired youth that it sparked a flame to well in the pit of his stomach.
Breaking the bruising kiss, Piccolo grabbed Gohan by the back of his hair again, tipping his face up. "Tell me about your need…"
"My-huh?" The glaze in Gohan's eyes revealed how sedated he was by his arousal, which was firmly evident by the tent of his pajama pants.
"This need that caused you to fuck up my life, kid," Piccolo condescended in an acid tone, feeling himself grow so aroused that it ebbed over his rage.
"You…you are what it is," the boy whispered as he tried to free a hand to touch himself, only to have his wrists squeezed.
Piccolo narrowed his clouded onyx gaze, licking his lips as he contemplated the aroused boy, and how the flame branched higher the more he watched the boy writhe in need…a need he caused in him. The irony was like a brick to the face. Both friends had avoided the other because of their need to suppress the fire that only burned for the other…
Truth was, whatever that bitch fate did, Piccolo had no clue how to really proceed. Then, the image of a nude, writhing Gohan fingering his hidden entrance made the hot coil in his gut tighten into a knot.
Growling, Piccolo suddenly jerked Gohan off the desk and forced him against it, stomach first. Bending the teen over the desk top, he pressed against him from behind, allowing Gohan to feel the hard arousal that pressed for release from its confines.
Whimpering, Gohan pressed wantonly back against Piccolo's hips, his body growing hot from his most perverted fantasy becoming reality.
"Is this what you want?" the husky growl bit through Gohan's hazed mind, inciting a groan of approval from the flushed boy. Piccolo's skin was tingling; this was so perverse …he was enticing his former pupil to beg for him. And the kid was actually doing it! The surprise made him jerk away.
Gohan whimpered. "Piccolo…Please!" He panted hoarsely, one of his hands snaking down to his crotch.
Grabbing his hand before he could touch himself, Piccolo pulled the aroused boy to face him. "Let me see," his gruff command caused Gohan to look exquisitely perplexed.
"See what?" he breathed, reaching for Piccolo, trying to pull him down for a kiss.
Resisting, Piccolo stared intensely as he said, "Show me how you touch yourself."
Gulping, Gohan stared up at Piccolo, who was unabashed by his command that he jerk himself off. "Wh-why?" he asked as his cheeks burned.
"You need to show me what you want…I don't know how to otherwise," Piccolo replied in a husky tone, lowering to roughly drag his lips against his. That's when Gohan's hand was close enough to do what he had fantasized since the waterfall incident.
Dragging his palm over Piccolo's sash, he trailed to his crotch and cupped what he could of his massive erection. He felt it twitch in his touch, and Piccolo flinched. Grabbing Gohan's hand and stopping its exploration, Piccolo reciprocated Gohan's caress by kneading up his inner thigh and cupping the tent of his pajama pants. Arching into the firm hand of his sensei, Gohan moaned in appreciation, but then whimpered when the hand receded.
"You need to show me…" Piccolo interrupted the whined groan of the flushed and aroused youth, his lips so close to his that he could feel his hot breath on his skin.
Gohan bit his lower lip, so riled up and twisted in his lust that the embarrassment was dulling into nothing. Looking into Piccolo's mirror-like eyes, he blushed as he trailed a hand down to his crotch, while the other snaked meekly under his shirt. His shy hand slipped past his waistband as he began to rub his perked nipple. Panting, Gohan began to stroke himself in time with the flicks of his thumb over his hypersensitive flesh.
Watching avidly, Piccolo's eyes couldn't decide whether to focus on the boy's hands or on his face as it heated and contorted in pleasure. Deciding that he wanted to see it all, he grabbed Gohan's intrusive shirt and pulled it off the teen's head, eliciting a surprised inhalation of breath from the raven-haired demi-Saiyan.
Gohan spread the moisture on his sensitive tip against the pad of his thumb, staring sultrily at Piccolo as he began to lose all inhibitions in front of his sensei and infatuation. Piccolo's heavy-lidded gaze seemed to burn over the boy, his erection growing painfully hard as the spot of moisture grew much more evident on the crotch of Gohan's pajama pants.
Suddenly pulling Gohan up to stand against him, Piccolo hooked his thumbs into his waistband and was about to tug the garment down when Gohan flinched in surprise and stopped pleasuring himself.
"Don't stop. I'm just getting this out of the way," Piccolo remarked heavily, causing Gohan to bite his lip and nod in compliance. Pulling the intrusive garment off his waist and down his hips, Piccolo let himself take in Gohan's sandy skin and defined muscles. Kicking out of the pants, Gohan leaned against the desk top, exposed and wantonly touching himself in front of the person he trusted the most…the person he loved. His mind grew even number from the realization.
Piccolo stared hungrily at Gohan and his actions. The teenager's body shone with sweat and heat from his perverted self-gratification, and before Piccolo could think, he pressed his strong hands against Gohan's inner thighs and pushed them slightly more apart, causing him to lean back on his free hand.
He groaned, the feeling of Piccolo's hands on him making him so aroused that he couldn't stop masturbating. That is, until he felt foreign fingers fondle his aching spheres. His breath hitched, hand pausing in mid stroke as Piccolo cupped him in one hand, while the other wrapped around his weeping member. Gohan spread his thighs further apart as Piccolo leaned over him and began stroking him experimentally. Panting and blushing madly, Gohan gripped Piccolo's shoulderpads as he began to stroke him firmly, caressing his balls in time with his stroking.
"Does this feel good, Gohan?" Piccolo inquired in a heavy rasp as he pressed his thumb against his tip and swiveled counter clock-wise over it.
Gohan bucked into his sensei's strong hands, nodding vigorously as he felt himself near the brink of climaxing. Piccolo watched the boy's expression clench and shiver from his touch, and his own arousal was becoming a heavy knot in his apex.
Without warning, Piccolo pulled his hands away from Gohan, earning a shiver and whimper from the boy that shot right to his groin. When the climax-starved youth unclenched his eyes to stare burningly at his sensei, he watched in mounting excitement as Piccolo discarded his turban to thud to the floor and removed his heavy shoulderpads and cape in a quick tug from his shoulders.
Free of his weights, Piccolo was about to resume his exploration of Gohan's enticing body when the boy grabbed his shirt and tugged it free from his sash. Running his hands up into the shirt, Gohan caressed every one of Piccolo's washboard abs and rubbed his rock-hard pecs, earning a heavy grunt of pleasure from Piccolo. Complying with the boy's heated gaze and silent petition, he pulled the gi shirt off, and was startled when Gohan assertively grabbed his sash and began to pull it undone.
Dropping his arms to his side, Piccolo didn't struggle as he let Gohan pull his sash from his waist, causing the waistband of his gi leggings to sag and drop around his hips. Kicking out of his moccasins, the sculpted Namek let Gohan shove the last intrusive barrier between them to pool to the floor.
Gohan hummed in arousal as he finally saw what his fantasies never did him justice. Piccolo's body was like a marble statue of perfection, with every muscle defined, every texture of skin sculpted, and most of all, with a physical arousal that even his naughtiest fantasies couldn't conjure.
Reaching to touch the rigid member, Gohan licked his lips and watched Piccolo's expression in hopes that he could make it melt into intense pleasure. His hand reverently gripped the hardened shaft, feeling the thick member twitch in attention. Piccolo's jaw twitched and his eyes narrowed as Gohan began to touch him. His lips parted and his heavy gaze fixed on the boy's actions.
Gohan edged off of the desk top and hunched over to taste his sensei's flesh with a wet kiss to his abdomen. Piccolo jerked back from the new sensation, pressing Gohan back against the desk.
"What are you doing," he inquired suspiciously down to the enraptured boy staring up at him.
"I-I was going to-you know…" Gohan stuttered slightly, his eyes darting to Piccolo's face, then to his engorged member.
"No I don't. Why else would I've asked," he protested gruffly as he leaned against the boy, unable to fight the urge of kissing him bruisingly once again.
Gohan felt inundated. He didn't know what to do to garner Piccolo's total sexual permission. Not that he had time to dwell on the idea, when Piccolo's hands were on the move over him again. This time, Piccolo had stumbled upon his hidden entrance, making him avidly curious.
Arching off the desk, Gohan cried out when Piccolo pressed his curious and firm fingers against his entrance.
Piccolo could feel the flame jump higher and burn up into his ribcage from Gohan's wanton reaction.
"Gohan…" He husked out as he leaned over the boy and began kissing along his jaw, enciting moans and whimpers of pleasure from him as he stimulated his entrance.
"Please Piccolo! I-Ahh-I need—" his passionate sigh broke off when Piccolo began to taste his skin. He nipped his pulse hard, earning a cry of excitement and shudders from Gohan.
"What do you need."
Gohan groaned, the fingers moving in and out of his tight entrance not enough. "I-I need more-!" he whimpered out.
Becoming frustrated, Piccolo finally hauled Gohan off the desk and gripped him to press against him. He held the shivering teen in his arms while Gohan clung to him and kissed along the curve of his pecs. Pressing their members against each other, the two warriors and friends stared hungrily at each other before Piccolo lowered to crush his wet lips against Gohan's.
Parting their lips, they twirled their tongues around one another, moaning and humming as one would suck on the other's lip or tongue searingly.
Finally, Gohan pulled back from the burning kiss first, and pulled Piccolo with him to his bed. Confused, Piccolo watched as the boy pressed both their erections against one another and rubbed them together. The friction was tantalizing. Their members were moist with their premature essence, and Piccolo wanted so bad to reach another level of such scintillating gratification.
Before he could ask, Gohan licked his lips and leaned back on the bed, with his rear against the edge of the mattress. Then, bringing his knees up, he directed Piccolo's ramrod erection to point at his prepped entrance.
"Piccolo..." he groaned, gaining Piccolo's stare to look up from his member and Gohan's half-prone form to the boy's heated and exquisite expression. Then, Piccolo felt his body tighten in excitement. Was Gohan giving himself to him?
His parted lips snapped shut as he pulled Gohan and positioned him up on his hands and knees, while he kneeled behind him. Groaning, the demi-Saiyan arched his back.
"Do you know what you've done to me?"
The gruff and hard tone masked his hunger as well as riled up Gohan to the point of begging. "Piccolo. I-I don't know; please—aaaah!" he cried out when he made him press his upper body flat on the mattress, exposing him completely.
Licking his lips, Piccolo stared drunkenly at Gohan's submissive form bent before him. His gaze finally fell over the youth's tight entrance. Rubbing his own thick sex, he slicked his wet pre-cum along his shaft, onyx eyes clouded with primal lust. Then, pressing his blunt tip against Gohan's tight entrance, Piccolo growled, the sensation of entering the boy becoming suffocatingly delicious.
"You make me want to do things I don't understand."
Groaning and stiffening as he was slowly being penetrated, Gohan tried to turn and look at Piccolo. "Do what you feel..." the boy muttered in a starved tone, small grunts emanating as Piccolo's shaft pulled out of him. Tugging on his hip, Piccolo allowed Gohan to turn and lay on his back, with his legs parted. The usually stoic warrior seemed conflicted as he stared over the gorgeous teen.
"What if I feel like hurting you?"
They locked gazes. The inquiry surprised Gohan. His raven gaze cleared from some of its lust-induced fog to stare up at Piccolo. The Namek's expression was etched in conflict. "Piccolo," Gohan mumbled softly, sitting up to wrap his arms around his neck and hug him. "If you wanted to hurt me, you would've done it already."
Piccolo froze from Gohan's assertion. Awkwardly bringing his arms to return the kid's hug, he buried his nose into his wild raven mane and inhaled his alluringly heady scent. "How would you know…"
"I don't, but, I-I love you, Piccolo. So, you can never hurt me…" Gohan's bashful statement broke as he clung to Piccolo's hard body, expecting to get shoved off or struck from how foolish he sounded, but a blow never came. Instead, the grip around him tightened possessively.
"…must you always do this to me?" Piccolo whispered almost bitterly as he nuzzled Gohan's scalp.
Gohan closed his eyes and didn't reply. They both held each other for what seemed like a small eternity. Then, Piccolo's grip waned first, only to be replaced by the feel of cool sheets as the teen was pressed against the bed. Lying over him slightly, Piccolo kissed him tenderly. Surprised by the gentleness, Gohan felt his heart flutter in his chest, and the spark in his soul became a wild blaze.
Both languidly kissed each other, their bodies rubbing and pressing heatedly against one another as the kiss intensified. Nudging Gohan's knees up, Piccolo pulled away from the kiss long enough to slowly press into Gohan's tight entrance. With a slightly pained yelp, Gohan's body stiffened as Piccolo's hard shaft penetrated him in one slow thrust.
Grunting, Piccolo clenched his teeth as he sheathed himself to the hilt within Gohan's tight body. Gohan stiffened at first, whimpering from the torrent of sensations. But, it was when Piccolo pulled back to thrust back in that a cried yelp escaped his lips and tears began to well in the corners of his eyes.
Pausing, Piccolo stared down at Gohan, and for the first time since their last major battle, his features were etched in concern. Before Piccolo could inquire, Gohan nodded his head in silent answer that he was ok. Hunching, Piccolo leaned over Gohan and kissed him as he began to thrust experimentally into him, eliciting a noise of relieved and exuberant pleasure from the boy.
Becoming more addicted to the heat and feel of Gohan, Piccolo began pumping into the boy with more abandon, but held on to his control in order to not hurt him. Gohan gripped his shoulders when Piccolo pulled away from the kiss to loom over him, thrusting at a rhythm that was sending him close to climax.
Piccolo felt heat streak his features as he watched Gohan groan and moan under him. His body grew taut from the adrenaline and fire that scorched him with satisfaction, and he grew even more enticed when Gohan began to buck against him in time with his thrusts.
Gohan couldn't control himself, wanting Piccolo's shaft deep within him. Releasing his grip on a shoulder, he trailed his shaking hand to his weeping member, and pumped himself in time with Piccolo's mind-numbing assault.
Avidly watching the boy become wanton and brazen in his arousal, Piccolo sat up on his knees and pulled Gohan by his hips, slamming him onto his pained arousal. Arching his back completely off the mattress, Gohan shouted in stark pleasure, seeing white when Piccolo's tip pressed against his bundle of nerves.
Loving the sound of Gohan's passionate cry, Piccolo repeated the action, again and again, until Gohan was sent into hypersensitive hysterics from the orgasmic bombardment against his prostate. His senses were only aware of the sharp intake of pleasure, how his member was dripping over his abdomen, and the slapping of bare skin as Piccolo pounded against him.
Piccolo grunted and growled, his shaft pulsing from his mounting climax as the blood roared behind his ears. Gohan's cries were becoming more frenzied, and his excitement was making his control slip. Not slowing in his pounding thrusts, Piccolo wrapped his free hand to pump Gohan's slick member, eliciting an unintelligible shout of need from the teen.
"Gohan—" he groaned hoarsely as he pressed as deep as he could go within the raven-haired demi-Saiyan. Gripping the sheets and arching, Gohan felt his whole body grow taut, clenching all the pleasure in one moment of bliss as he shouted his sensei's name. He climaxed powerfully, spilling his seed over both their abdomens and chests. Piccolo prolonged Gohan's hearty climax by pumping in and out of him before leaning over the boy and kissing him sloppily.
Shivering from the aftereffects of his mind-blowing orgasm, Gohan clung tightly to Piccolo, forcing the Namek to press their sweaty and sticky bodies together. He hummed in foggy satisfaction, his mind coming back from its hypersensitivity slowly. Then, Gohan realized Piccolo was trembling over him. He could feel Piccolo's thick shaft still inside him, pulsing with need. When he opened his eyes to look up at the handsome Namek, he saw Piccolo's flushed features tightened and his eyes clenched shut. He was panting through his nose, which caused his antennae to shiver.
The sight of his sensei enraptured made Gohan feel so depraved…but he liked this depravity.
"Piccolo…" he stiffened at the sound of his name, and how heated it was coming from his once pupil. When he didn't respond or look down at the gorgeous boy, Gohan propped his head up and licked the tip of a quivering antenna, causing Piccolo's breath to hitch in his throat.
Staring down at the disheveled boy, he watched as he leaned up and kissed his chest, stopping to languidly lick the slick beads of his own climax from the Namek's leathery skin. "Gohan—"
"Piccolo." Gohan looked up sultrily at him, trying to entice him. "I want more…"
The Namek blinked down at the boy, whose seductive streak was fizzling as he stared up at his now perplexed lover.
"What more is there…?"
Gohan blushed, feeling incredibly depraved as he sat up and wrapped his arms around Piccolo's neck. "For you to-to fill me…" his stuttered admittance made his sandy skin practically turn pink, especially when Piccolo's scrutinizing gaze bore over him.
When Piccolo pulled away slightly, Gohan felt his heart twist in anxiety. However, his fear was turned to shock when Piccolo grabbed him by the waist and plunged his pulsing erection deep into his exquisite tightness.
Gohan's eyes grew wide and his body shuddered as he yelled in pleasure from Piccolo colliding point-blank with his prostate. Hissing in pleasure, Piccolo forced Gohan to flip onto his hands and knees, gripping his hips and bucking back into the boy's ass without ever pulling out.
He growled in rough passion as he began to plunge in and out of Gohan while the teen gripped the disheveled sheets and bucked back onto Piccolo's hips, grunting and moaning with abandon.
"You want me to fill you with this?" Piccolo growled gruffly against Gohan's sweaty shoulder as he fisted the boy's cum-slick erection, pounding into him.
"Y-Yes!" Gohan shouted after Piccolo squeezed his base and moaned when he felt some seed leak onto Piccolo's hand.
Piccolo brought his hand to his lips and licked it clean, tasting his once pupil's heady essence. He hummed, feeling intoxicated by how much Gohan wanted him. He had never expected that his need would be mutual, and now that he knew it was, it made him want to plunge into it with rough abandon, until they were both writhing against each other in sullied bliss.
Piccolo thrust into Gohan, gripping his slender hips and pistoning in and out of the boy's tight ass. The sounds of panting and skin slapping against skin was the only thing both friends and lovers could hear over the pounding of their frenzied pulses. Becoming more desperate and hungry in his passion, Piccolo gripped Gohan's hip and pressed his hand into the mattress, hunching over his back to taste the sweat from his skin, eliciting a gasped noise of delicious pleasure from Gohan.
Gohan bucked wantonly against Piccolo's hips, writhing as his mentor became possessive of his thick sex, pumping it in time with his pounding thrusts.
"Gohan—I-I want—" Piccolo breathed huskily against the teen's shoulder and neck, baring his fangs and grunting as he clenched his eyes tightly; the hot coil in his apex loosened from it's tight not, and before he could grasp his words, his orgasm pushed him over the brink, causing him to shout his growl and buck bruisingly into Gohan, which in turn, sent the teen into hypersensitive hysterics. Both yelled their climaxes in unison, Piccolo thrusting deep into Gohan and stiffening as he came full force into the boy's tight ass while Gohan shuddered and shouted unintelligible moans, spilling his seed all over his sensei's hand to drip onto the sheets below them.
Still absently moving against each other and grunting satedly, the two warriors and friends crumbled to the sheets, tangled against each other. They panted exhaustedly, and felt each other's heartbeats pummel against their chests. Rolling off of him, Piccolo pulled Gohan over to press against his chest and buried his face in the boy's disheveled raven hair. Still shuddering, Gohan clung to Piccolo, encircling his waist and pressing against him. Piccolo leant against the wall on his side, and managed to coax the sheets over and around their sex-sated forms. Gohan shivered, but not from the cooling effects of post coital bliss. Pressing his lips against Piccolo's throat, Gohan hummed in a conflicted tone. Grunting, Piccolo nudged the top of his head with his chin, a silent instruction for the teen to say what he wanted to say.
"What were you going to say…?" Gohan muttered under Piccolo's chin, to which he received a confused grunt. "I-I mean when you said you wanted something…what were you going to say?"
The silence was deafening, but Gohan decided to settle for what he had: Piccolo…a sated Piccolo at that. So, he figured he wouldn't push his luck.
Piccolo honestly didn't remember when he said that…but he knew he had thought of it. He had been thinking about it for two years, to his dismay. But voicing it to the kid…to his lover?...this sentiment was so strange, but all-engulfing to him. So, he kept running through his mind at what he should say in reply, but only the truth really made the most sense. When he was about to say it out loud, he realized that Gohan's breathing had smoothened, and that the teen had grown lax in his possessive hold. Glancing down at the sleeping demi-Saiyan, Piccolo felt the spot in his chest grow warm and full.
Resigning himself to let it all go, Piccolo rested against the slumbering teen, brushing his wild hair absently until the caress drawled him into his own sleep.
Gohan felt warm, but constricted in his sleep. He could feel the sun flaring into the room, but he was facing away from the window. Shifting, he felt the wall shift with him and sigh in sleep. Opening his eyes, Gohan blinked when he found his face only inches away from Piccolo's still slumbering countenance. The night before flooded over him in stark sensation, causing Gohan to stiffen. He watched Piccolo's calm and sleeping features, expecting the Namek to wake any minute and for all hell to occur. At the same time, he didn't want that to occur just yet; he wanted to prolong this bliss as long as he could, so he rested his head against Piccolo's chest, and pressed back against the Namek's nude and warm frame.
He dully heard the front door open, but only after it slammed did he realize—
"Goten! Take does muddy shoes off and leave them outside! I don't want this house tracked with mud," his mother's voice boomed down the hall. Gohan shot straight up in bed, jolting Piccolo to shift and drowsily look up at him.
"Ohno-ohno-ohno-ohno!" The teen shrilled in panic as he fell out of bed and bounded for the lock on his door, securing it shut just as the knob was tried with no success of entry.
"Gohan? Are you up?" Goten's easy-hearted tone was muffled behind the door as he tried the knob again.
He shot a panicked look at Piccolo who had now swung his long legs over the edge of the bed, rubbing his eyes drowsily.
Gohan anxiously grabbed at his discarded clothes, tugging his pajama pants on in such a rush that he tripped on himself and fell the floor in a tangle. Piccolo just idly blinked at the boy, then realized the cause of his alarm when three loud bangs on his door shook the wall.
"Gohan!" the shrill voice of his harpy mother was enough to send Piccolo bounding for his clothes too, and in 3 seconds flat, he had his pants and sash on and was in mid tug of his shirt when he grabbed Gohan and hauled him up from his clumsy tangle on the floor.
"Just a second, Mom!" he shouted as he pulled his t-shirt on and headed for the door, so riled and nervous that he barely noticed Piccolo right his appearance and glance around the tussled room. When he finally remembered Piccolo, he turned around and found himself alone in his room; the window still open from last night. His bed was made and the mess at his desk was righted, chair and all back in place.
Unlocking the door, it swung open to reveal a skeptically wide-eyed Chi-Chi. "Why was the door locked?"
He nervously laughed, scratching the back of his head as he pathetically lied, "Oh my room was a mess and I-I didn't want you to see it—and I was changing, so—"
"Ugh! Don't tell me you slept out in the wilderness again, Gohan," she protested, arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently. He grinned nervously and nodded, getting shoved out of the way so she could poignantly survey his room. "Well," she sighed, relenting in her inquisition. "I swear, Gohan. Spending your free time out on that desert is really making you absent-minded." His mother went on in her rant, taking the laundry basket in her hands to her room while Goten rushed down the hall, said a quick hi to his older brother, and headed for the TV in the living room.
Gohan blinked, realizing the irony of his mother's assessment. However, the desert had been the one to spend the whole night on him…
Piccolo felt lax in his meditation, but he knew it was futile to relax when he felt the ki signature zooming toward him in the sky. Sitting on the edge of the cliff overlooking the river valley below, he leaned back on his hands and stared at the energy trail that grew closer in the sky overhead. It was late afternoon, and he had expected the kid to track him down as soon as his harpy mother got distracted with Son's miniature replica.
Standing, he watched Gohan descend from flight and land just across from him. Gohan rushed over, but paused in consideration, his smile sobering as he took control of himself.
"Hey," he said in demure greeting before smiling meekly. "Sorry about this morning…"
"Forget it, kid."
Nodding, Gohan didn't know what else to really do, especially when Piccolo walked over to him and cut the distance between them. He tipped his chin up, startling him slightly. His stoic mask didn't falter, but Gohan could see the flash of something searing in Piccolo's onyx gaze.
"What I was going to say…" Gohan's eyes scrunched in confusion. "What I wanted…was to feel myself inside you. It's what I had wanted for so long, Gohan…"
Astonished, Gohan gazed up at Piccolo, his eyes a glossy raven sheen that made him even more alluring to his sensei. The teen knew what Piccolo meant, in every sense, but he also knew that was as much admittance he would get out of the Namek, as well as much of an explanation as Piccolo was capable of voicing.
Piccolo knew. He knew that the resentment and bitterness he had formed against Gohan had been a defense mechanism against the truth. When the kid had confessed his trust and love in him…he knew that that was what he had concocted to be his weakness. But…if the same sentiment was received and embraced by Gohan, the only person that mattered to him…he knew it wasn't weak. Or depraved.
Gohan didn't feel wrong anymore. He felt free; he felt accepted…and wanted. Just as he had been pining for his mentor, he had been pining for him. Something so mutual and meaningful could never be depraved. His heart had skipped and pounded against his chest just thinking about seeing Piccolo, and now that they were together, all he wanted was to be—
"Kid," his thoughts were interrupted and Gohan realized he had circled Piccolo's waist and was now leaning against him. Piccolo's stiffness melted as he held Gohan to him, smiling faintly as he nuzzled the top of his head.
"I can't stay long; I just came to see you before dinner," he chuckled nervously as he added, "mom's pretty mad about me not studying, so…I snuck out."
Grunting, Piccolo stepped back, and ruffled his head affectionately. "Go."
Gohan smiled genuinely for the first time. Lowering, Piccolo captured his lips in a surprisingly tender kiss, not being able to help himself. Humming in surprise, Gohan's eyes fluttered shut as he slinked his arms around Piccolo's neck, allowing Piccolo to hold him against him and deepen the tender kiss.
Parting from the kiss, they stared into each other's cool expressions before Piccolo combed Gohan's wild bangs out of his face and grunted in humor.
"Go home kid, before your mother starts hollering," he mused gruffly, to which Gohan grinned. Backing away until he was at the edge of the cliff, Gohan looked in direction of to his home. "Hey kid."
"Yeah?" Gohan paused, looking over his shoulder as Piccolo crossed his arms.
"When you're done being a scholar, sneak out the window and come spar," he mused in a gruff command, adding, "After two years of dreaming off into space, I need to get you back in fighting shape."
Laughing, Gohan smiled. "Only if winner gets to kiss the loser," he mockingly stipulated, waiting for Piccolo's trademark "Feh" or muttered curse for him to quit being foolish, but instead, he received a smug smirk and an amused nod.
"Fine by me, kid. However, I don't intend on losing."
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