Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball or Dragon Ball Z - I do now own the Mafia - I do not own Nameks or Saiyans - which makes me a litle sad, but OH WELL. I hope you enjoy~
Warnings: This story is centered around Piccolo/Gohan - and this chapter in particular deals with budding hormones, and a very awkward "the birds and the bees" discussion with a growing up Gohan. yay for awkward~
~~~~~2 years later~~~~~
~14 Years Old~
Gohan grabbed for the wheel with one hand while the other braced himself against the dash. He tugged on the wheel and turned the car back onto the road before it dove into a ditch. The car hiccupped and lurched forward, rattling all the occupants inside the steel contraption.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Son!" the young namekian boy squeaked – only eleven years old – he flinched as he stepped on the brake and jerked the car to a stop.
Gohan smiled and laughed awkwardly as he grasped the stick shift and indicated that the boy should push down on the clutch. "That's enough driving today, Bostel. I'll uh… take over from here." He tried to smile again, but it wavered and the namek happily slid into the back seat, relief causing even his antennae to finally perk up. Gohan scooted over and pressed in the clutch and brake, tugged on the stick shift, and rolled the vehicle back onto the road, chugging along smoothly.
He easily navigated his way back to the Family neighborhood, dropping the boy off to his father and parked the car just a few streets away to the side of Mr. Piccolo's home. He hurried inside, pulled his cap from his head and wiped his shoes on the rug in the entry way. Glancing to the clock, Gohan rushed to his room and scooped up the copy of "The Time Machine" that he currently was reading. He smiled sheepishly and hugged it to his chest, nibbling his lip. He couldn't wait to continue reading it with Mr. Piccolo. Gohan's heart fluttered and his tail lashed behind him anxiously. He loved having Mr. Piccolo listen to him read and even occasionally allow a debate to volley back and forth between the two of them over where the book might go next. He reached the bottom step just as Mr. Piccolo stepped through the door, Cymbal and Nail following him inside.
Gohan smiled, his tail waved back and forth joyously, and he folded his hands in front of himself with the book. "Welcome home, Mr. Piccolo."
Piccolo frowned at him and grunted. Gohan set the book on one of the tables in the hallway and he stepped forward, reaching up for Piccolo's coat. In the last five years, Piccolo had gained an easy two feet in height, and Gohan, a mere half a foot. He again hoped he might grow a bit more – simply for vanity's sake. He knew better than to assume he would be a better Enforcer by being taller; but he wanted to be able to look Mr. Piccolo in the eyes and feel as though he were of use to him.
The three namekian's left him in the hall as he hung Mr. Piccolo's coat and stooped to pick up Nail's and Cymbal's from the ground.
"Have they come home already?" the kitchen maid, Launch, asked in a whisper from the doorway. He nodded and she cursed something under her breath. She disappeared back into the kitchen and Gohan waited patiently. Launch took it as a sense of honor to be certain Mr. Piccolo had a cup of hot tea ready for him no matter what time of day he came home. She scurried from the kitchen, silver tray in hand with several china cups and a large pot of tea. Several butter cookies were arranged artfully off to the side; the ones Gohan liked.
"I'll take it to them." He offered and she narrowed her eyes at him, pulling the tray back.
"You aren't asking just so you can get me out of trouble, are you?"
Gohan pulled back, his eyes widening, "No! Of course not! I don't think you would be in trouble for tea, anyway. You are the best cook we have ever had in this house and-"
"But that's because you're a saiyan and will eat anything. I could put tin cans in your dish and you'd eat them before realizing what they were!" She puffed up, cheeks reddening. "I'll do it myself!" She marched into the office, head held high and long blond hair bobbing at her shoulders.
He peeked into the office, book in hand. He watched silently as Launch efficiently laid out the nameks' cups and poured their tea, laying the cookies on the saucers. As she placed the tea pot back on the tray, it tipped and a rush of hot water fell over her fingers and she pulled back, cursing like a sailor. With years of training under Piccolo as the only explanation for his reflexes, Gohan ran across the office and saved the poor china tea pot before Launch had time to throw it across the room.
He laughed weakly and set the hot china back onto the tray, "Thank you Launch! I'll call you if we need anything else!" he gently pushed the woman from the room.
"I'll murder that tea pot!" She screamed before the door slammed shut in her face.
Gohan panted, wiping a bit of nervous sweat from his brow. He would have to figure out a way to get her to sneeze so her more kindly side would be ready by dinner time. Maybe if her sweet side was out, he might be lucky enough to sneak out of the kitchen with a few of those butter cookies with her blessing.
"Gohan, sit down."
"Yes, Mr. Piccolo." Gohan immediately sat in a chair by the door, his eyes lowered and hands gripping his knees.
"Continue." Piccolo motioned Cymbal and the namek shifted uncomfortably as he glanced over at Gohan then back to his Don.
"We got to the warehouse on time, but that saiyan Enforcer, Nappa, was there with a group of their Family as back up." He scowled, his voice dripping with venom. "He set us up, Don; Nappa said Don Vegeta doesn't want dirty hatchers like us doing business in his city."
Nail snorted and looked away, arms folded. "I don't know about a set up; but Nappa at least knew what he was doing. He had the warehouse emptied by the time we got there and said he paid our supplier double what we were. He's sending a message, Don Piccolo. He is moving in for a takeover. He wants our territory and he wants it yesterday."
Shaking his head, Piccolo sat back in his seat, tapping his claws upon the shine of his desk. "He'll fail."
It was so simple, so direct. Gohan peeked up at Mr. Piccolo, his tail swaying with a twitch at the tip as his Don lifted eyes of burning fire and looked first to Nail then to Cymbal and leaned forward, like a predator slinking into the hunt as he pulled his lips back. "He'll fail and we'll survive. It does not matter what he does to us. This is only a minor financial setback. We'll send our nameks out, we will send our Informants, our Enforcers, we'll find their spies and turn them, and we will break them from the inside. We are united and strong; they are nothing but monkeys prancing down the street in suits." He paused, allowing the two men a moment to catch their collective breath before he sat back. "Go. Tell the Heads we will meet tomorrow at nine am to discuss this further."
He waved them away, turning away from his half brother and his right hand man. "But we will not surrender." Piccolo growled and the door clicked shut as they left the room.
Gohan lifted his eyes, his heart hammering in his chest. He could still feel the electricity from Mr. Piccolo's words. His tail slapped against his leg excitedly as Piccolo's heady and powerful scent filled the room and washed over him.
Piccolo remained silent for some time, tapping a claw against the desk. The clock kept pace with the ticking of Piccolo's taps. Yet, even he gave in and closed his eyes, allowing his chin to dip a few inches. "Gohan," the boy perked up instantly, fingers gripping his knees. "Read to me for a while. I need to clear my head of this mess Cymbal has gotten us into."
Standing quietly, his tail high and swaying, Gohan retrieved their book and flipped through the pages as he joined Piccolo on his side of the desk and eased atop it, crossing his legs once he sat in the middle. "Let us see, chapter five." Gohan smiled and Piccolo's red eyes never turned away from the right side of the room, his left fingers fidgeting with a pen. Clearing his voice and sitting up straight, Gohan began.
"As I stood there musing over this too perfect triumph of man, the full moon, yellow and gibbous, came up out of an overflow of silver light in the north-east. The bright little figures ceased to move about below, a noiseless owl flitted by, and I shivered with the chill of the night. I determined to descend and find where I could sleep."
His tail kept his pace, swaying to and fro, thumping against Piccolo's leg now and then comfortably. It reassured him to know Piccolo was there. Though Gohan could smell him and even just feel his intensity of spirit within the room, Gohan continued to touch him now and then, that tightness in his core lessening as he confirmed Mr. Piccolo's warmth continued to sit next to him.
"Then, again, about the Time Machine: something, I knew not what, had taken it into the hollow pedestal of the White Sphinx. Why? For the life of me-"
Gohan choked on his words abruptly, his eyes wide and tongue fumbling. Mr. Piccolo took his tail in his hand, stroking the tip and brushing the fur aside with a claw that touched across sensitive skin beneath. "Uh… um…" He swallowed hard, his heart hammering in his chest.
"-life of me I could not imagine. Th-those waterless we-lls, too, th-those flickering p-pillars…"
He closed his eyes for a moment and tilted his head, his lower lip trembled as the sensations raced up his tail and blossomed from the base and outward. Chills and delicious bursts of warmth cloaked him and Gohan rumbled in his chest.
Forcing his eyes open, Gohan flushed, his entire face burning with embarrassment. "Uh… I…sorry." He ducked his head and stared back at the book. What had he been reading? He couldn't remember, and the more Piccolo stroked his tail and dragged his fingers through the fur, kneading at his flesh and moving further down – oh, it felt so good. He stifled a sigh, then shook himself, forcing his eyes back down onto the page.
"I felt I lacked a clue. I felt – how shall I put it? Supposed you found an inscription, with sentences here and there in excellent plain English, and interpolated therein, others make up for words, of letters even, absolutely unknown to you? Well-"
He couldn't focus, his eyes crossed and he bit his lower lip as pleasure swelled between his legs. Gohan inhaled deeply, his tail twitching and yet unmoving within Mr. Piccolo's grip. He shivered, loving the way he was completely captured within Piccolo's large, strong hands. He shifted on the desk, dropping his hand-
Snapping his eyes open, Gohan jerked the book down over his lap, eyes wide and his back snapping ramrod straight. He felt the fur along his tail stand on end and he squeaked. "I…I uh… I need to go!" He twisted about, knocking some papers to the floor in his wild bid for freedom.
Piccolo's finger's slid across his tail as he pulled away and Gohan nearly stumbled from a delighted shiver. He jerked the door open, the book still pressed to his lap and he fled up the doors and to his room. He slammed his door shut, pressing his back to it and dropped the book. He grabbed the hem of his shirt to keep his hands from straying.
Panting and trembling where he stood, Gohan squeezed his eyes shut, his tail lashing at the air wildly behind him, slapping his tail again the door repeatedly in a desperate bid for him to deal with the growing pressure and aching hardness between his thighs. It was wrong! He shouldn't have reacted like that! Mr. Piccolo was only being nice. He was lucky to have a Don like him. He shouldn't be reacting like this. He shouldn't.
Gohan bit his lip and whimpered softly, the heel of his palm pressing against his lower stomach and pushing down. The pleasure spread throughout his entire body and the back of his head hit the door. He cupped himself through his slacks, his hand hot and just right. His knees trembled and his tail slapped the wall, fidgeting from a robust scent that made him dizzy. Gohan moaned, feeling phantom fingers comb along his tail, and claws raking through his hair...
Piccolo stood from his chair swiftly as Gohan leapt from his desk and ran for the door. The relaxation gained during the reading of the book faded, turning into a jumbled mess. What was wrong? He watched Gohan fumble with the doorknob, his other hand still fastened securely to the book and he pressed it against his thighs-
Inhaling sharply, eyes widening as Gohan's dark head ducked and slipped out the door, Piccolo leaned forward, bracing himself against his desk, staring at the door and listening to the pounding steps of the saiyan teen racing up the stairs and to his bedroom.
It took effort to swallow. Piccolo's mouth dried and his head thrummed and twisted with confusing questions. The realization that tumbled over and over before his mind's eye that made his antennae twitch, his abdomen tighten, and his tongue wet his lower lip, was that Gohan had become aroused; all because he had touched his tail.
Gohan stared at Nail's neck and cocked his head. Nail still wore traditional namekian clothing, even if he had mixed it with the modern styles currently running rampant in the human world. Gohan had seen him wear crisp white shirts and creased pinstripe pants, and Nail was never without his fedora and long trench coat if he went outside the namekian neighborhoods. Still, he clung to certain traditions fiercely, and he was just as often seen in long vests and the large, flowing pants of the nameks homeland as anything else. But most importantly, Nail had yet to give up the white neckerchief that enveloped his throat and shoulders. Gohan wondered after it. Why exactly did nameks wear it anyhow? He understood it was modest by their old world culture, but Nail's modesty – though noble – was impractical for an Enforcer, not to mention rather silly looking when paired with a three piece suit..
Gohan stared, studying the poofy thing around Nail's neck, and he wondered if his neck was a paler green than the rest of his skin. In all his years serving Mr. Piccolo, Gohan had only seen Nail not wearing it once – when he had returned home by some miracle after being kidnapped and interrogated by the saiyans.
The tip of his tail flicked back and forth behind him quickly as he leaned forward ever so slightly, and with only the sudden stiffness in his shoulders to warn him, Gohan's eyes jerked up and stared directly into Nail's narrowed eyes.
Blushing and ducking his head down, Gohan fumbled with his fork, shoving a piece of chicken between his teeth.
"What?" Nail barked, back straight and eyes narrowed.
"Nothing. I'm sorry." Gohan blushed all the more, his tail wrapping around his waist.
"What was so fascinating that you willingly stopped smacking your lips upon the grotesque remains of that animal carcass?"
He wrinkled his nose at that and looked at the chicken, suddenly not very hungry. He pushed his plate away and fidgeted upon the stool as Nail's eyes dug into his skin relentlessly.
Shrugging, Gohan nibbled his lip. "I don't know. I was just wondering why you wear your neckerchief like you do."
"It's a Namekian Kava, or scarf." Nail corrected and took a drink of his tea, the china clicking as he set the cup down on the saucer. "It's part of our heritage to remain modest."
"But you don't wear a shirt." Gohan blurted, leaning forward in his seat.
Nail's lips pursed and regarded him for some time, making Gohan squirm in his seat.
"That is your culture, not ours."
Gohan frowned, his brows knotted together. "I don't…"
Nail rubbed at his temple, a faint hint of color spreading through his ears. "Gohan, nameks are modest, you understand this, correct?"
"Well for a namek, our necks are very…private. Unlike humans and saiyans, a namek's neck is very sensitive to…touches." His cheeks blossomed.
"I don't understand." Gohan frowned, touching his neck, prodding at the lump that was beginning to form in his throat.
Nail took a long drink of tea. "When nameks reproduce, we all have a…organ… very similar to the ones male saiyans and humans possess. But what makes the namekian race so different, and thus persecuted, is that the namekian race also possesses a way to reproduce on an individual basis. We do not have gender as you are used too, Gohan. We are all fully capable of producing offspring on our own…or with a partner." He looked away, his antennae twitching.
Gohan blinked, listening and he felt his cheeks slowly warm till he felt the heat clear down to his navel.
"When a namekian chooses a mate, both partners are fully capable of producing children." He looked back to him, from the corner of his eye. "Do you know how a namek gives birth?"
Gohan hesitated, shaking his head, and he grabbed at the legs of his pants, holding tight to the fabric in an attempt to keep himself from fidgeting.
Nail exhaled, wincing with a tick beating above his brow. "Namekians give birth via their mouth." He paused. Apparently Nail didn't see what he wanted to see because with a huff and a shake of his head he continued, looking more flushed and annoyed than before. "A namek's throat is the equivalent to your saiyan females. Sex is achieved this way if two partners wish it. Our sex drive – though certainly present – are far easier to control. We have fangs to prevent forced copulations – unlike you saiyans. If two namekians do join together as a mated pair, the child's gifts are left to chance. By copulating, we create diversity, by creating life alone, we create a child with the same gifts as our own, though their personality is entirely theirs. For instance, if Dende were to ever birth an egg alone, his son would also be a magnificent healer."
Gohan was red from head to toe, he was certain of it. He hadn't realized asking Nail about a scarf would involve a namekian sex talk.
"There is also a third and more obtuse method for copulating called Seeding, but it is rare and done only under extreme circumstances." Nail cleared his throat, and Gohan got the impression that sort of sex was a very private and special affair.
"To answer your question, now that you understand our… biology, nameks wear kavas for modesty's sake. Its…erotic," Nail flushed again, "to see another's neck. They are very sensitive, and it is meant for only one's self or a partner to experience."
Gohan nodded, his head spinning. How many times had he touched Mr. Piccolo's neck while helping him dress? Did Mr. Piccolo think he was disgusting? Touching him like that? Shame flooded him and he bit his lip.
"Why does Mr. Piccolo not wear a scarf...I mean, a kava, all the time?"
"Because he is Don. In order to protect The Family from the outside world that does not understand our ways, he must present himself a certain way amongst the humans and saiyans. He compensates by wearing high necks and often a tie, but even the namekian race has slowly become lax in such a custom as the generations pass. But there are still many, like myself, who prefer to remain covered." He finished awkwardly and turned, taking his teacup and saucer to the sink. He washed it out and set it aside in the drying rack, and Gohan fidgeted on his seat as he watched him.
Nail's perfect posture and square shoulders always made him want to sit up straighter and do better. Yet he wanted to ask, he wanted to know if what Nail did was because it was namekian custom, or personal. "Does it make you uncomfortable?"
Nail paused, and after several drawn out ticks of the clock, Nail nodded and turned to regard Gohan, his mouth a long frown. "It does, but I am not one to force my personal preferences upon others. It is my choice to live by my heritage, it is neither my place to chastise or condemn those who are simply adapting to a changing world around them."
"What about Mr. Piccolo?"
Nail shook his head and a faint smirk touched his lips. "That is enough talk, Gohan. Don Piccolo is an exception. He does not flaunt it like many of the younger generations. He is also comfortable in his own skin, never allowing his Namekian pride to stop him from achieving his goals. He often does not train in a kava because he knows that he needs to experience what it is like to fight without it. He wears what he needs to wear to further The Family, but he also leads by example by compensating with wearing human and saiyan clothing that lends itself towards our virtues when within our territory. I find his actions exemplary. "
They stared at each other, the water dripping from the tap echoed and splashed against the drain. Gohan wondered how sensitive their throats really were. Was it just a touch? A brushing of fingertips across their skin? Or did nameks have to bite? Or perhaps it was sensitive only when two partners were copulating? Gohan's blush returned full force, burning hot as Nail watched it happen.
"I – thank you, Nail." He whispered, bowing his head though he couldn't take his eyes away from the stoic namek.
Nail simply nodded, folding his arms over his chest.
He hesitated upon the stool, his belly twisting about. Finally, Gohan stood and as silent as possible, he emptied his dinner into the waste bin, washed his dishes in the sink with shaking hands as Nail remained at his side, and once the dishes were set aside, he fled from the kitchen and back into the yard to continue chopping wood for the fire.
He couldn't seem to get rid of the blush as he realized that when he touched Mr. Piccolo's neck, it probably felt the same as when Mr. Piccolo played with his tail.
Author's Note: I'm very excited to finally post this chapter. I've had this one written out almost from the very beginning and loooove it on so many levels. Spacefille was the one who really wanted Gohan to be sitting on Piccolo's lap while he was felt up during their reading sessions - but since Gohan is still a minor, I don't rush things when I write, and I also like to grow my characters and their relationships, I started out small :) innocent touches that no one without a tail would think twice about.
But mostly, I love this chapter because this was the chapter that Nail finally was really defined for me. I felt like, even though I did it from Gohan's point of view, I finally understood who Nail was in this particular story and why he did - and does - what he does. I love the previous chapter because of Spacefille's side story with Nail and her work helped me develop his character more; but this one defined it.
So! As proud as a parent at their kindergartner's first play, I present to you, my version of how nameks have sex! :D this was actually a lot of fun to work out. I did as much research into what Akira Toriyama had ever written or said about nameks and their race, and wanted to try and stay as close to that as possible... and then twist one or two things. Spacefille and I discussed it at length, and I ultimately came to the decision that an asexual race still needed to create variations otherwise they would be nothing but copies. So I figured out about three different ways (four if you count the one I'm not including in this story) that namekians could reproduce both alone and together, and am now quite satisfied with my final product :)
hopefully I didn't completely turn everyone off to this story now XD but I'm very pleased with it and I hope to hear what you think. From here on out, Gohan is growing up, lots and lots of hormones involved, and a deeper plot shall reveal itself ;)
I hope you liked and don't be afraid to review~
~Melissa the Damgel