Red Roses2: Hey again. This is the prequel to That Look. I might change That Look's title, to what I'm not sure yet. Again, Piccohan. This is my first smut scene ever, so cut me some slack, keep in mind that Piccolo IS an alien and thus has different biology from us humans, and give constructive criticism.

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ. If I did, this would be in the anime, no?

Heart-Shaped Box

I hover in meditation. The sound of the waterfall relaxes me. I try not to think about the upcoming battle with Cell. Goku said that there was no sense in worrying about it, but I can't help it.

I seem to think that to myself a lot lately. I snort, remembering when I started admitting weakness to myself. I had been wished back to life, and Goku was somewhere out in space after the planet Namek was destroyed. I had visited Gohan as often as I could without wanting to gag at my sentiment. No matter how much I insisted that he could look after himself, I always found myself coming back and taking . . . joy, I think . . . in the grin Gohan would give me. It was then when I realized that Gohan meant everything to me and that my greatest weakness was – no, is – my inability to control myself around him.

I pull myself out of my reverie when I feel Gohan approaching. I furrow the creases where humans would have eyebrows together. What is he doing all the way out here, in the middle of the night?

Gohan touches down close to me. I open my eyes and look at him. His face is scrunched up in a worried fashion. I sense that something is troubling him. It's probably just the Cell Games. I land in front of him.

"Hey, kid," I greet. Gohan smiles weakly at me.

"Hey, Piccolo. I can't sleep. Mind if I hang around a bit?"

I shrug and resume my meditation stance, but I stay on the ground. He starts to talk about whatever light-hearted things come to mind, and I just listen, as always. His voice trembles, and both of us react when it breaks and suddenly moves an octave lower. I open my eyes. Gohan looks horrified, and he grasps his throat. Again, he looks troubled, like he did when he first arrived.

"Has that been happening a lot?" I ask.

A look of shame graces his features, and his face resembles a cherry, even in the starlight. He nods.

"It started happening in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber," he mumbles. I let the subject drop, but I can tell it's bothering him.

"You shouldn't worry about it," I say after a few moments of silence.

"Piccolo?" I grunt to show I'm listening. "Have you ever been kissed?"

My eyes widen, and I can't help but stare at Gohan in complete shock.

"What?" I ask. Why in the world would he ask me that useless question?

Gohan winces at my tone.

"I'm sorry," he rambles; I can hear the fear in his voice. "But we could all die in a few days, and for – for some reason, late at night, that's all I can think about – how I've never – how I'll never - !"

"Don't talk like that!" I snap. "Keep up that kind of thinking and you just might die! No one wants that." I wait for him to calm down for a moment. I watch as he looks more ashamed than he did earlier. "In response to your question, no. I've never been kissed . . . that is the thing where people's lips touch the others', right?" Gohan giggles a little, and he nods. I smirk a bit. "Anyway, why would I have been? I'm a martial artist of a different species than everyone else on this planet, and I look like it to boot." I chuckle. I'm not bitter. I'm stating a fact. Then I look at Gohan. I blink. I can't discern exactly what emotion he had, but it looks like . . . hesitancy and . . . yearning? Then shame flashes into his eyes again. He hunches over and hugs his knees.

"D-do you – do you w-want t-to . . ?" Gohan gulps. I tense as I realize where this conversation is going.

"Gohan . . . ." I start, not knowing how to talk about this. "Why?" Why what, I'm not sure myself.

Gohan shifts so that he's on his hands and knees. His cheeks burn red, his ki rises slightly – a sign he's nervous and scared. I suddenly can name the look in his eyes: desire. I've never been on the receiving end of a look like that. I've only ever seen it once, and that was when Goku gave it to Chichi. I don't really know what it means, other than he wants me. But I don't know what that means either.

Gohan bites his lip. He draws a little blood.

"B-because I – I - ," Gohan hiccups, and he starts to cry. His ki rises even more. If he's not careful, he'll wake up his father. He grips the grass, dirt digging under his fingernails. "I love you!"

I stare, dumbfounded. He refuses to look at me now. His tears stain the ground.

"I love you! I love you so much I can't breathe! I'd do anything to be with you! I - !"

I'm not sure when I crashed my lips against his, or why I chose that method (I blame Nail), but I do know why I did it. He needed to stop talking, before he said something he'd regret. But as I move my hand to cradle his head, I'm taken aback by how . . . nice it feels, to have his lips on mine. Gohan is surprised, but after he realizes that he's not dreaming, he nips hungrily at my bottom lip, trying to deepen it . . . the kiss. Cynical thoughts enter my head, berating me on how this was a sign of weakness, but the sound Gohan makes turns my brain numb, stopping all thought.

It's a cross between a groan and a growl, coming from the bowels of his throat. It's laced with want and need, desire and urgency.

It scares me.

I pull him away, just so that our lips aren't touching anymore.

"G-Gohan?" I silently curse the break in my voice. Gohan looks up at me, a flood of emotions flowing through his eyes, drowning me in my own confusion . . . and want. A shiver runs up my spine as I realize I want to hear Gohan make that sound again.

What is this selfish monster inside me? I'm not supposed to feel this way. I'm a Namek. I'm asexual . . . right? Besides, he's eleven. That's really young for humans and Saiyans. He shouldn't be . . . I shouldn't be . . . . Just because I want to doesn't mean I can . . . .

"Piccolo," Gohan breathes, leaning forward. I raise my hand, holding it between our lips. My fingertips brush his lips. Another shiver runs up my spine.

He looks at me questioningly. I open my mouth to . . . apologize, I guess. But that's not what comes out.

"Was that all right?"

He nods, still looking breathless. An image of Goku and Chichi kissing suddenly enters my mind; why that disturbing memory decided to rear its ugly head is unknown to me.

"Isn't there something I'm supposed to do with my tongue?"

. . . . Why did I just say that!?

Gohan blushes and nods.

"I . . ." he says, voice as silent as the wind around us. He lowers my hand as he talks. "I think it goes . . ." His lips move closer to mine. "like this." Our lips touch again, and he runs his tongue over my mouth. I shiver for the third time in a row, involuntarily opening my mouth.

Gohan apparently takes that as an invitation to plunder my mouth with his tongue.

I try to push him away and tell him I didn't appreciate that, but then he brushes his tongue over a sensitive spot. Heat engulfs the back of my throat. It's so sudden I almost push Gohan away for fear I was regurgitating fire. Then I realize I like the feeling. A lot.

I make a sound I will deny I ever made for as long as I exist. I fist my hand in Gohan's hair, and I pull the boy up against me, trying as hard as I can to force his tongue down my throat. Gohan makes that groan/growl again, opens his mouth wider, trying to comply to my unsaid demand. He straddles my waist and runs his tongue against another sensitive spot.

I'm so wrapped up in what this boy was doing to me that I barely notice the heat coming from Gohan's crotch area. The heat radiated onto my stomach. I ignore it, until his crotch pokes me.

I pull him away, and Gohan looks at me through half-lidded confused eyes. Then he seems to realize he has an unexplained issue. He slowly looks down at his crotch. His face turns cherry red again, and he literally jumps off me.

"I'm sorry!" he yelps. Shame screams in his eyes. "I don't know why it happens! It started in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber! I'm sorry!" He hunches over, trying to hide the protrusion in his pants. I don't know what to say. He looks so scared and ashamed. I've never seen him quite like this before. The heat in my throat suddenly escalates. Then I get an idea.

"Gohan, it's okay." I smile at him. He looks doubtful. "I think it's just your sex drive. You're just becoming an adult." Gohan stands up a little straighter.

"Really?" Hope glitters in his eyes.

"Yeah, really." I lick my lower lip. "Want some help with making it go away?"

Gohan blushes, and his breathing hitches.

"H-How are you going to do that?"

I smirk. "I have an idea." I walk over to him. The heat in my throat is driving me mad. Something needs to be deep in my mouth. Now. I pull him towards me and, through a fluid motion, lay him on the grass, underneath me. I brush my hand over his crotch, just to make sure I was hypothesizing correctly. Gohan yelps and involuntarily thrusts forward. He's cherry-red again. I do it again, just in case. He mewls like a needy cat. A grin spreads across my face; I have no idea where this sadistic beast came from, because it's nothing like anything I've ever become before. I tug at his belt, untying the knot.

"W-what are - ?" Gohan asks. I shush him, lean forward and whisper what I'm planning to do in his ear. Gohan groans and tosses his head back. I grin against him and pull back. I ease his pants off his hips. I bite back a grunt of amusement at the sight of his pubic hair. Humans. I shouldn't laugh at him. He can't help it that his body produces hair.

I slip his pants off until they're bunched up around his knees. Apparently, Chichi hadn't had time to shop for more underwear for him, seeing that he had out-grown his ten-year-old ones. I have to bite my lower lip hard in order to keep myself from laughing. His penis looks like it's an oversized parasite or caterpillar. I suppose mine would, too, if it wasn't green.

"Piccolo?" Gohan asks. I look up at him. He looks nervous. "Is something the matter?" I swallow my laughter and blood.

"No. Are you ready?" Gohan nods.

I lower my head, open my mouth, and plunge his length into my throat.

My brain feels like it exploded into a thousand fragments. Pleasure washes over me, threatening to suffocate me. Gohan yelps and thrusts his lips, pushing his cock deeper into my throat. I moan around him. The act causes him to make that erotic groan/growl. I run my tongue across his cock. He thrashes under me, moaning and trusting. I dig my nails into the ground, not wanting to hold the boy back. I hear Gohan yelling my name as I lightly clench his cock. Somehow, we find a rhythm, me plunging deeper when he thrusts harder. I can't think coherently anymore. I can't even imagine what it's like for Gohan, a being who's supposed to have sex to reproduce. I shudder erotically at the thought, my shiver having an effect on Gohan.

"Pi – Picco – lo!"

Suddenly, liquid fills my mouth, and I have to pull away. Before I sit up all the way, I notice that I instinctively swallowed . . . whatever Gohan just put in my mouth. I look at him. The boy is breathing heavily, face flushed, sweat rolling down his forehead. He unclenches his fists, letting go of the grass he had in a death grip. The plant fragments shatter like glass. The vegetation hadn't stood a chance.

"I guess you liked that," I say. He nods.

"I – liked it – a lot. Did – you?" Gohan says between breaths.

I smile.

"Yeah. I did."

Gohan smiles, everything that he is embodied in that one act.

"I'm glad. Thank you."

He closes his eyes, and his breathing evens out. I slip his pants back on and tie his belt back.

At least he wouldn't be worrying about being kissed before he died.

I sit next to him, like I had before our . . . sexual activities, and resume my meditation, only to be interrupted again.

"What, Goku?"

Goku lands and lets out a relieved sigh.

"Good. He's with you. His ki woke me, and I was scared he was in danger, with how his ki was fluctuating."

I remain quiet and eerily still, even for me. How much energy had Gohan been giving off?

"But what's he doing out here?" Goku asks, an innocent questioning look on his face, the blond spikes framing his face.

"He needed someone to talk to," I say, being half truthful. Just because Gohan was Goku's son didn't mean I was going to tell the Saiyan I just finished fucking the boy senseless.

Goku smiles at me, completely unaware of what I did to Gohan . . . what Gohan did to me . . . what he begged me to do. "You're a very good friend to him." You have no idea, Goku. You have no idea. "Thanks for looking after him. Mind if I take him home?"

"He's your son. Why are you asking permission? Just do me a favor."

Goku blinks.

"A favor?"

I smirk. "Tell him it really happened, that it wasn't a dream."

Goku raises an eyebrow.

"That what wasn't a dream?"

I don't answer him. I take off into the air intent on meditating more . . . if only to memorize the images and sounds of an aroused Gohan . . . and why it turned me into a sexual beast.

End

For now

Red Roses2: This is also a one-shot until further notice. But I will turn it into a longer story. Again, this is the prequel to That Look.