Written for Chiccolo Week's Firsts Day

There was something intoxicating about him, the way he smelled, the way he felt, the way he moved - oh! Chichi gasped, pressing her forehead into Piccolo's chest, trying to muffle any further exclamations as a result of his ministrations. She closed her eyes, fingers tightening on her lover's shoulders as his hips rolled into hers, letting the soft sounds of his voice mixing with hers fill her ears. One of Piccolo's large hands slid down her back between her body and the mattress, slipping under her hips. Chichi let out a moan as he changed the angle of her hips, pressing their bodies together in the passion of intimacy. Before she had fully processed it, Piccolo was kissing her, and she was almost aching for the sudden loss of him. The fire in her belly still smoldered, no where near quenched.

"Hey -" she whined, even as he was nibbling on her ear, even as his tongue left a warm, wet lines on her sternum… navel… hips… Her back arched as he kissed her, kissed her deeply, tongue pressed flat against her sex. Anything else she had been about to say was lost, tumbling over her lips in a jumbled mix of swear words and praise. The first time, she had been afraid he would nick her with those daggers he called fangs… but it as it turned out, he knew just how much to use them… Lips, fangs, tongue… His name passed her lips like a prayer as all the coils came unraveled and her thighs tightened around his head. She was just thankful he was strong enough to withstand it; anyone weaker would have a cracked skull.

Sprawled out on the bed, chest rising and falling, hair fanned out behind her, Chichi closed her eyes. "How did I get so incredibly lucky?" she panted, lifting her head to kiss him as crawled back up the bed. Her arms looped around his neck and touched her nose to his.

"Luck has nothing to do with it," he rumbled, tongue flicking out to lick his lips clean. "We've known each other for years, I practically raised your brat - sorry, Gohan - then suddenly we find ourselves caught up in some ridiculous plot woven by said brat - don't even try to counter me. He played us like fiddles."

"He did," Chichi conceded, shrugging her eyebrows.

"And now we find ourselves…" Piccolo pressed his lips to her forehead, "here."

"Mmm," she smiled, closing her eyes. Here she was, falling asleep in the arms of her love… His weight slipped off the bed, and her eyes popped open, pouting.

"Where're you going?

Piccolo shrugged, picking his shirt up off the floor.

"Probably the couch."

"Don't…" Chichi sat up, hesitant, "don't you wanna stay?"

"I...am…." Piccolo raised an eyebrow, "I'll be on the couch."

"I mean, don't you want to stay...here...in my bed…" she bit her lip, "with me?"

Piccolo paused, looking cautious, contemplative.

"Alright," he murmured, dropping his shirt back where he'd found it and sitting down on the bed. Chichi scrambled to get under the covers, holding them back for him. He settled in beside her, and she cuddled up to his chest, enjoying the cooling effect his skin had on her. "This feels significant," he remarked, looping an arm around her shoulders. "Sleeping - actually sleeping - in your bed."

"Yeah, it does," she tittered, looking up at him, "but it feels right, doesn't it?"

Piccolo snorted, but his lips were twitched in a smile.