Important Announcement! Please Read: I received an email from Discord asking me to verify the creation of a new account with them but of course I did no such thing because, I haven't touched Discord in years! To make it clear: I DO *NOT* HAVE A DISCORD ACCOUNT, SO IF YOU FIND ME ON THERE, WELL: THAT ISN'T ME. (I would be so grateful if you reported whoever that impostor is.) And I really hope that that's that. (Since I'm ancient and can't really get with mainstream social media to post updates like this for, I'm using my profile for that for now. You can mosey on there if you wanna be up to speed with the nonsensical nitty-gritty of my writing progress, posting schedule, occasional lamentations, and whatnot.) Cheers!
Warnings/Tags: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage, One-Way ViHan, Ideologically Sensitive, Character Introspection-Heavy, Extra Angsty, Hurt & Comfort(?), Smut & Fluff(?)(Dunno Yet), Canon-Typical (Slightly More Graphic) Violence, Caustic Arguments, Gas-Lighting(?), Guilt-Tripping(?), Emotional Manipulation, Crime & Mystery (of Sorts), Sinister Workings(?), Implied/Referenced Masochism, Auto-Eroticism, Sexual Content(?), Gohan!Whump, Gohan Whump, Piccolo!Whump, Piccolo Whump, Physical & Emotional Whump, Offhand Plot, Completely Random & Arbitrary, Raw & Unedited, Birthed From A Depression Spell, And Nagging Summer Heat, Dunno Where This Is Going Yet (& Don't Care), Winging This Is What Happens When I'm Dispirited, Writing Therapy of Sorts, NSFW, 飯Ｐ, 腐向け
Disclaimer: Dragon Ball/Z/GT/Xenoverse/Super/etc. belong to their respective owners. I own nothing except this derivative fanwork which I do not profit from.
Story #259.5:
"That Day In Summer"
(This is the English version of my story: "Ce jour là en été…")
Son Gohan puffed out a dejected sigh. Summer break was proving to boring this year, he lamented. It was hot, and not blazing summer sun-beach weather kind of hot; it was the arid dessert but somehow grossly humid sort that left your pores perpetually bubbling with unshed sweat. The air, dry and suffocating to breathe in. How he wished he were out doing something else other than just wasting his while away, his body making like a geyser that just accumulated heat from the atmosphere and refused to eject it. Training would be much better than this—at least that way, the workout would force his overheating body to cool down. Better yet, what he wouldn't give for a nice, long skinny-dip in the cold waters of his favourite lake… that lake that was near Piccolo's favourite waterfall… Inhaling deeply, he let out his gloomiest sigh yet. He was stretched out like a cat on the roof of the Son House, hoping to catch a nap somewhere it was breezy and free from his mother's scrutiny. He was counting on having a great afternoon, especially after Chi-chi had allowed him to get out and do whatever he pleased for the rest of the day—the woman was too fagged out by the muggy weather as well to nag him to do school work. That being the only good thing to come out of the oppressive heat… He originally planned to see Piccolo to hang out, of course, but he decided to make himself scarce from his mother's line of sight first and foremost—and fast before she changed her mind. Heck, even meditating was to him at that moment, a more exciting a prospect than whatever he was doing… (Sunbathing?) And yet…
'Piccolo-san! Can you hear me? Can I come over to see you? We could cool off in the lake or train or—'
'No.'
'—or, or—what? N-no?'
'I don't want to see right now. Apologies.'
And just like that, Piccolo's end of their mental connection went dead. No signal; like he had even been cut off to keep him from trying to engage in a telepathic conversation again.
Gohan tried not to bummed about it, but lately, Piccolo had been in such a bad mood. "Bad mood" by his definition was when the Namek gave him the cold shoulder. Which was practically unheard of! Piccolo hasn't flat out blew him off and shooed him away since he was four years old! At first, he thought his best friend was just busy with other things and would return to his normal self when whatever was keeping him busy blew over. But… and his lips actually began to quiver at the reminder… it's been two weeks now and things weren't looking up for him in that aspect; ever since summer break started, Piccolo just suddenly wanted nothing to do with him and he didn't have a clue why. He didn't know how his four-year-old self could have handled the blatant rejection, but now at sixteen years old, his mind was in shambles. He didn't know what to make of it, he honestly didn't know what he did wrong for Piccolo to treat him like this out of the blue…
The corners of his lips bent at an even lower angle. His eyes prickled, not from staring at the sun that defiantly continued to weather him down, no… He hadn't felt this hurt in ages; his chest felt tight and constricted, like his heart was actually cracked and weeping and really, he was a adolescent now! He tried his best not to emulate his pathetic four-year-old self who moped and cried and pitied himself whenever his mentor and only companion then so coldly brushed him off… But he really couldn't help it.
It took him a few moments of wallowing in sadness before he realized that tears were already streaming down his cheeks.
Warrghh! Stop this! You're not a child anymore, Gohan! This is exactly why Piccolo-san hated you back then! he berated himself, briskly sitting up and roughly drying his face of evidence of his perceived weakness. Besides, stressing yourself out won't get you anywhere! And damn! did it make the waves of heat bearing down on him from all directions seem worse, much worse. Vivid memories from the time he spent in the barren wastelands and rough seas flashed in a dramatic montage in his mind. After everything he'd been through—all that he had braved! It was true, he may have started out as a cowardly momma's boy—a spoiled brat, as Piccolo had called it—one whose first instinct in times of the slightest inconvenience was to bawl like a selfish newborn for his father to come to his rescue or to run and hide under his mother's skirt like a weak and helpless little pansy… Yes… That was who he was—the way he was raised to be… A codependent, snivelling milksop of a boy. But…
That wasn't who he was anymore. And, it was exactly because of Piccolo not babying him that he learned what it was like to be a real man—a hero even; that he was able to stand on his own two feet and fend for himself and finally break out of his coddled and sheltered life; what helped his blinkered eyes open wide to the reality of the real world for the very first time! Yeah, he may have gone through all levels of hell in those eleven months, but he emerged mature, caring, and compassionate, smarter, wiser, and braver than his old self could ever have hoped to be… Someone he was truly proud of: a true warrior.
The halfbreed sprung to his feet. This was no time think of what he stood to lose, but what he could afford to give! A noble ex-demon soldered that into his very soul! And he had a lot to give. He owed his master as much and it was time to return the favour. Piccolo-san would never act without good reason. There had to be something amiss with his best friend and knowing him, he just didn't want to burden anyone with it—least of all, him. So, no. He wasn't going to make this about him. For all he knew his friend needed him and he was simply too shy to ask for help, so help he was going to bring. He swore to make Piccolo proud, and that's what he was going to do!
.
The Namek wasn't hard to find: by the waterfalls, meditating as always. He got as far as his usual greeting of "Hi, Piccolo-san!"… Next thing he knew he was smoking and momentarily blinded from the impact of a powerful ki blast to his chest which was still pushing him backwards through the air with tremendous force and ultimately using his body to punch a hole through a crag. He flipped back and out of the way to free himself from the ki blast. The energy bomb finally detonated behind him, chunks of rock and debris pelting him. Pain registered as soon as the shock subsided. With a hissing gasp, he ripped off and discarded what was left of his burning shirt. A flurry of angry red welts marked the spot in his front where the drilling beam of energy had struck him.
"I told you to stay away."
Still somewhat disorientated, he looked up to find Piccolo calmly approaching him; the look on the ex-demon prince's finely sculpted face definitely not that of appreciation.
"P-Piccolo-san," Gohan wheezed, he could feel his flesh still searing and burning under his skin. Heh, he laughed inwardly. To think that all he really wanted to do that day was cool off. He doubted even a rigorous bout of training would get his blood to fizzle down after an injury this serious… His master wasn't fooling around with that attack. "What… Is everything alright? I— I was worried…" He knew he probably should have taken a hint. But the intensity of the attack he received all the more confirmed that something wasn't right with his best friend. The energy waves coming off of Piccolo's seemingly relaxed body was on edge, even… afraid? Yes… It was very similar to the reaction he would get whenever he was trying to help an injured wild animal. There was great fear—as any creature rendered especially vulnerable ought to be—but deep down, they really wanted comfort and security. Those animals would growl and hiss and even claw and bite him, but once he's proven that harming them wasn't his intention, they would eventually surrender and curl up against him, keening softly as he went to work nursing them. Once he's cleaned, disinfected with herbs, and patched up their wounds with leaves, he was usually left with quite the assortment of injuries of his own from the ordeal; none too serious.
As far as he could tell, Piccolo wasn't injured, certainly not vulnerable. But to Gohan's wilderness-honed sensibilities, his master was sure as hell acting like one…
"Leave."
Hand to his smarting chest, adrenaline pumping in his ears, he blinked several times to tamp down his own awakened fighting instincts and tried to outmanoeuvre his rising defensive Saiyajin anger. No, Piccolo wasn't a threat; he was crying for help. But the Namek was no wild animal, far from it. He was a being of superior intelligence who could be even more stubborn than the worst of them when he wanted to be and far more dangerous and deadly. Already, he had sustained a near-crippling injury from merely disobeying his master's wishes. Obviously, the man wasn't about to surrender and curl up in his lap and admit whatever it was that he really needed. Gohan had to be more subtle about his intentions lest risk them being misinterpreted as patronizing, and that was a sure-fire way to drive the aloof Namek farther away…
"Okay, I will…" Gohan panted, taking in deep regulating breaths through his nostrils. "But you have to tell me what's wrong. I just… I just need to know you're going to be fine, alright? After you tell me, I promise… I'll go… If that's what you really want…" The heat seemed tenfold now that his body was primed for battle; sweat trickled down his skin and his lungs seemed too small to take in enough air. The attack was so sudden and unexpected that he was totally unprepared for it. If they had been sparring and he had been given time to get into battle mode, he would have easily have been able to shield himself from any deadly blow or blast with some amount of protective ki. But he took the death beam raw and he was mildly dizzy from the pain that refused to subside. More than the physical pain, he was reeling from the thought that Piccolo actually meant to hurt him. Gohan bit his lip to keep childish tears from bursting through his "brave and mature" façade. It won't cut it to assume the role of protector if he was the first to fall apart…
"You can't help me." Piccolo hesitated a moment, before abruptly turning. "Get lost, Gohan. Before I make you."
Gohan was looking at his mentor then, studying his well-schooled features before it was partially hidden from him. He thought he caught a moment of weakness… was it pity? Regret for the unprovoked attack? He thinks he also caught a slight tremor in Piccolo's voice, but perhaps that was just his somewhat delirious brain being optimistic… Maybe it was his body aching for the familiar abuse—that unique brand of punishment that only Piccolo could ever unleash upon him. It was his dark and dirty little secret after all…
Piccolo Daimaoh Jr was and continued to be the one and only being in the entire universe who could ever make him truly feel… and crave pain. Only, he didn't know it.
Not until that addicting pain stopped.
He worked hard to get over that. And now… Now that he was made to feel it again…
"Make me then," Gohan challenged, a steely hand on the Namek's shoulder so fast that it startled even himself. "Because I'm not leaving until you tell me, Piccolo-san. Deal with it."
Blue orbs flashed coal-hot scarlet as those heavy lids narrowed at him. He only responded by reinforcing his hold on the man, squeezing until his grip turned deathly, sure it was inflicting some undeniable measure of pain. Piccolo was not bluffing in his threat; but neither was he.
The Super Namek was quick to oblige. Blows were raining down on the younger fighter so fast that he took several to the face before he was able to mentally recalibrate; but once he did, he made sure that the exchange didn't stay one-sided for long.
Gohan didn't know what came over him. Or maybe, he was just letting loose himself. It seemed like they both needed to let off some steam that had been tightly lidded for too long, so… If Piccolo was mad at him and needed a punching bag and that punching bag had to be him, then that's what he'll be. If it would make Piccolo feel better… then, it was always worth any amount of pain or suffering. He would honestly do anything for the man; gods knows how many times their roles have been reversed when it came to that.
Of course, it was probably just his own stubborn heart wanting this to go down with some sort of resolution no matter how fucked up; anything was better than just leaving things the way it was. He knew he should just respect his friend's wish to be left alone. But for some reason, he couldn't do it. Something inside him was screaming at him not to leave Piccolo to his own devices—not this time.
Or maybe he wanted this. Wanted Piccolo to use him.
For the most part, Gohan fought hard enough to keep the fight going. He loved sparring with Piccolo, but hurting him in any way was really the last thing he wanted to do then, or ever. Unlike most typical Saiyajins he's encountered (including his own father and Vegeta), he was trained to fight efficiently, not for personal entertainment or ego. It wasn't in his nature to fight to maim and kill; he could hit an enemy with everything he's got if that's what was called for, no problem. But fighting all out with Piccolo with the intention to incapacitate? That was something that never came naturally to him, no matter how much the man tried to hammer that discipline into him. He knew Piccolo was strong enough to be at par with Saiyajins—he knew he was playing with fire. But it was something he couldn't really control: when fighting with Piccolo, he was always on the defensive. And after an hour of non-stop fighting, his injuries made the consequences of his recklessness only too painfully evident.
While he was able to shield himself from the most fatal attacks, he still ended up badly messed up. His lower lip was busted and bleeding with part of his flesh spilling out and his right cheekbone had a nasty burst-open laceration in it from an explosive punch he had not managed to completely avoid. The length of his arms were sore and bruised from trying to deflect all the punches and kicks and energy blasts, and many more aches and pains in too many places to even keep a conscious track of. Curiously though, Gohan found it the strangest thing that Piccolo refused to relinquish his mantle and turban. He had removed his weighted gear for fights that demanded less.
"Will you… tell me what's wrong now?" Gohan managed between heaving breaths. This time, he couldn't help a twinge of hurt from escaping into his weary voice. Despite the rush of endorphins from the strenuous exercise, he was feeling pretty upset and the longer Piccolo held out on him, the harder it was getting to hide that. "Why won't you tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it? Is… Is it that bad?"
Piccolo only continued to take in huge gulps of air with him.
"For what it's worth, I'm sorry. I…" Gohan gasped as a tear rolled down his bloody cheek, and he snapped his eyes shut willing the rest not to fall but… He was more badly shaken on the inside than on the outside than he liked to admit. "I would never mean to hurt you, you know that, don't you?" It was too late now. His shoulders shook as he collapsed to his knees and sobbed, apologizing over and over. One, for a sin he wasn't even aware of committing against his friend. And two, for breaking down in tears like a snivelling wimp. He knew that alone was enough to annoy his master to never wish to see him again, ever. But he couldn't help it. He felt so lost…
If there was anything in the world that he couldn't stand, it was the idea of Piccolo hating him…
"I never said it was your fault," Piccolo finally graced him with his first non-hostile answer.
"Then…" Gohan sniffed. "Why… Why do you hate me?"
Piccolo scoffed. "Who said I hated you?"
Gohan's bloody lips quivered as he stared up at his master, searching those eyes for any sign of affection he so desperately craved. It was a habit he couldn't for the life of him break. All these years he still wanted nothing more than for the surly Namek to love him. In any way, no matter how scant.
"Well isn't it enough that you don't want to see me—and going by that initial attack—would even kill me rather than see me? How am I supposed to take that? As a sign that we're okay?"
The Namek fidgeted uncharacteristically before turning away and mumbling, "I didn't think… I didn't mean for it to actually hit you." Then he sighed. "You're still terrible at dodging after all these years…"
Gohan felt his face flush in spite of the situation. "Who dodges right after they say hullo to their best friend?"
"Oh, I don't know… Maybe someone who wasn't even supposed to be there in the first place because said best friend said he wanted to be alone?" Piccolo stormed back, crimson eyes blazing.
"I- I'm sorry… Piccolo-san…" Gohan hiccuped before struggling, with much effort, to his feet. "You're right. It's… It was wrong for me to do this to you… I'm being so selfish… I just… I just really wanted…" His voice dropped to a practically inaudible sotto voce, "…to see you. That's all…"
Before Piccolo could say another word, Gohan finally granted his wish and left… But not before bidding him a soft: "Well, uh, later then? I hope you feel better soon, Piccolo-san."
…With a smile that looked more pained than happy that haunted Piccolo long after the boy had left.
.
To be continued…
End Notes:
Putting this up was unplanned. I was supposed to post the English version only after I've concluded the French one. Plus, I really wanted to get "Killing the Curiosity"'s concluding chapter out of the way before all else but unfortunately, I'm still wrestling with it at the moment so, I had to use another "vehicle" to make the urgent announcement; hence, this (since this chapter has long been written and finished).
I'd like to thank Timelan-san (again) for the all the pointers to help improve my French writing! ❤️ (The first chapter of the French version of this will most likely be heavily revised when I update it with the next chapter.)
As always, I truly appreciate the support (R&R/Kudos etc.)! Cheers, lovelies! ❤️
(2021/04/22-2021/05/15)