Thirteen years old...that was how old he was today.
What was so great about turning thirteen? It was such an insignificant number, an insignificant age.
Thirteen was that in-between stage where you were not quite a teen, but you weren't quite a child either.
It was during this time that suburban parents allowed their naïve little darlings or their little hellions more like, to go happily to the mall and hang out with other like minded preteens and teenagers. A strange human ritual that Gohan had never taken part in personally. Only having witnessed the mystifying behavior in movies, comic books, anime and the numerous books he'd read.
At thirteen -Gohan felt even less like a human, his body still restless from the fight he'd had with Vegeta earlier that morning, strumming with power and frustration.
His Saiyan side was on high alert, rearing its ugly head as it took in the people around him. On the hunt for prey, desiring a certain green skinned alien that set his soul on fire!
Gohan unconsciously noted the power level of the people surrounding him in the back of Capsule Corp, where the party was taking place. Cataloging the weakest to the strongest, constantly aware of any threats in his territory.
To Gohan's disgust, his saiyan side considered the entire earth his territory, his to command and conquer.
His sense of smell, much stronger than before, was rapt to take in the scent of wildflowers or cinnamon that his beloved wore like his infamous cloak, a rousing perfume that got Gohan's engine running. His instincts waited in desperate attention, ignoring the fact that Gohan had not invited his love in an effort to protect him from his raging hormones.
Gohan had purposely withheld his birthday invite that he usually fought tooth and nail to extend to the stoic namek.
Frantically trying to tame his spiraling power, Gohan realized that now was not the time to go out of control and allow his base self, his ' saiyan-self' free reign over his emotions. Behaving like an entirely separate entity at times, his saiyan side looked for challengers to defeat out of his father's friends, no matter how unlikely.
As the days had worn on, Gohan had become a more primal version of himself. Ever since he'd hit puberty and scented Piccolo for the very first time, he was a raging lunatic that nobody realized was a threat. It was honestly a struggle to mimic his previously goody-two-shoes behavior when all he wanted to do was confirm his dominance and ravaged Piccolo's body silly !
Even now, standing amongst his father's friends, right next to his mother, Gohan could track every one of the Z-Fighters, tracking their every move. Not a single one of them was hidden from him.
It angered him greatly that he couldn't turn these new powers of his off -his sharper senses got the better of him the more he exhibited his super saiyan characteristics, even in his harmless unascended form.
It was not obvious to the others- thank goodness , no blond hair or blue-green eyes here ! But that did not change the fact that Gohan was a hunter -a predator looking for his chosen prey to devore.
Gohan's beast side was out on the prowl, under the surface of his skin, just hungering to take over if he wasn't careful.
Since this thing with Piccolo had started, Gohan's mind, body, and soul, was all poised to attack, to dominate the green being-lucky for everyone there, Piccolo wasn't in attendance. In such a volatile state, Gohan didn't think he would be able to cope effectively if the Z-Fighters, many of whom were male, came anywhere near his gorgeous namek. Just the thought of it had Gohan growling possessively, as irrational jealousy ate away at him. Kami-forbid they dare get their scent on his beloved, Gohan would lose his everloving mind if that happened!
Turning away, Gohan knew he needed to get himself together. He walked to an unoccupied table, taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes to settle his nerves as he contemplated his birthday party and the day of his birth.
The age thirteen seemed so trivial now that he thought about it, twelve and now thirteen seemed to be nothing but an age where everything inside of Gohan was in flux. He had no power over himself, no control, or ability to get the one thing he wanted desperately. Gohan was a weak and useless child, one that was forced to deny what he really wanted in an effort to protect what he held most dear.
Now sixteen -that was an age to be proud of, an age where people stopped treating you as a child and started giving you more responsibility. Gohan couldn't help idealizing that age, one because it gave him the hope that he would be more in control of himself and two, because he would be much bigger and able to somewhat be treated like an equal, at least in regards to Piccolo. Currently they were so opposite in height that it was almost laughable. How dare he think he was even worthy of confessing his feelings when he barely came to Piccolo's waist!
When Gohan finally decided to come out the closet , and confess, he hoped to be standing toe to toe and head to chest with the surly namekian, hopefully much taller than the pitiful height he was currently stuck at.
Sixteen was an age that actually mattered to society, besides the much anticipated eighteen. An age where Gohan believed with every fiber of his being, that he would finally achieve the valued control needed to be around Piccolo the way he wanted.
Sixteen year old Gohan would not be this pathetic , he thought resentfully. He would be so much better, having mastered his body that Gohan wouldn't have to hide from Piccolo at all, but be able to express his feelings in a healthy and mature way. Not the savagery and cowardice he was exhibiting now!
Gohan thought, desperately wistful. That!- was the birthday to celebrate, not this travesty!
Gohan sighed, he needed to calm down. Today was his birthday, but it was a circus! A total mess of epic proportions!
Gohan was so done with this day that he was ready to fly to the Hyperbolic Time chamber and wait out the rest of his teenage years until he was an adult, free from all this hoopla! he thought watching the hologram of Bulma order her robots around as she directed an actual elephant onto the grounds.
The crazy lady even had dancing dinosaurs for his birthday.
Though calling her crazy might be a little too nice, I mean , dancing dinosaurs! Who does that? You can't make this stuff up! Gohan thought with a long suffering sigh.
Yep, it really is a circus...especially when Gohan spotted a clown or two milling around.
Why was his life so overrated?!
He knew the bluenette could be a little extra at times.
But was all this really necessary? Gohan wondered exasperatedly.
I mean the woman wouldn't even come out of her lab! Instead, she chose to communicate via Holograms and robots. Using her genius mind, Bulma was able to project her image in such a way that you barely noticed that she was nothing more than glass, wires and circuitry.
Her physical body still holed up in her lab as she screamed commands at everyone, directing the madness.
Gohan honestly didn't want to get into the emotional and mental ramifications her behavior displayed, they all were a little zany.
Nor did he want to point out that this was totally unhealthy for the genius, but just like everyone else, his father's death had ruined Bulma, and her hermit ways was just another casualty of that.
Ignoring the Bulma hologram that screamed bloody murder at the robots that'd mistakenly put the talking monkeys onto of the towering ice sculpture that looked uncomfortably like Gohan, he winced as her loud screeching hurt his ears. Though that ice sculpture didn't help matters, making him cringe in disgust and embarrassment at the display.
He honestly hadn't even wanted a damn party!
Remembering how he practically begged Bulma to keep it small and simple, but once again he was ignored. The blunette assumed she knew best, as she tried to celebrate the birthday of her dear departed friend's son. Gohan's birthday quickly became more of an homage to the dead leader of the Z-Fighters, than for Gohan, a way for Bulma to honor him instead of the boy left behind as she went overboard with her planning.
Now he was stuck standing around awkwardly, pretending to be grateful as people much older than him and a pair of babies, all celebrated his birthday. Gohan felt like some chump, with the fakest smile he could muster on his face. Pretending that he actually liked all of this shit!
All I freaking want is Piccolo!
The thought blared through his mind, causing Gohan to wince as his inner saiyan snarled in rage. He wanted to end the whole thing, to go in search of Piccolo, but that wouldn't go over well. Once the blue-haired woman got a hairbrained scheme in her head it was hard to persuade her to do something different.
Gohan stood off to the side at his own party, away from the others.
A few of the Z-Fighters were already there, enjoying the free food and booze -Krillin, with Android Eighteen and their daughter Marron, way to name your daughter after your ex-girlfriend Krillin , Gohan thought uncharitably, with a roll of his eyes at the idiocy of Krillin.
The little man was stuffing his face while he chatted with Master Roshi, his new black hair an awkward addition.
Master Roshi, being the perv that he was, was trying to look under Android Eighteens's skirt while Oolong cheered him on and Turtle wasted everyone's time doing nothing, as per usual, were all in attendance.
Gohan knew he was being a bit of a jerk in his own mind toward his father's friends, but - today was his birthday, and if there was one day in the year he didn't have to be the polite and well mannered boy he usually was, then today was it! Also, a lot of the Z-Fighters had changed, and not in a good way.
Already Gohan was ready to hide the alcohol as he heard Krillin giving out his unique brand of "humor" and sarcasm, attacking the insecurities of others while attempting to make himself feel bigger and take away his own dissatisfaction with life.
"Well, well, well-Bulma, finally came out of hibernation, huh, or at least tried too? I think I like you better inside of this screen of yours, does it come with a mute button?" He laughed obnoxiously, the wind ruffling the weird black hair he had finally managed to grow on his typically bald head.
"I think this is a good look for you, I don't have to hear your endless nagging in person." Krillin exclaimed happily.
"For a while there, Bulma, I thought you had become fused with your precious technology. Sure you didn't invent a way to plug yourself into it? Though it can't be all bad, you actually lost the baby weight you've been carrying around for years, or maybe it's the hologram playing tricks on my eyes." Krillin said with a laugh, grinning up at the hologram mockingly as he tossed digs at the unlikely hermit.
Krillin's low jabs hit the blue haired woman where it hurt. She hid a flinch as she glared, her lips thin in displeasure before she smiled coldly at the shorter man.
The shine of the holoscreen did nothing to hide her murderous intent, nor the furious gleam as she fought fire with fire, reminding everyone why she was not the one to play with.
"Well, Krillin , thanks for your concern. But I'm sure you're the clear expert on technology, I mean, you married it, had a baby with it. You're the only one here who has first hand knowledge on what screwing a machine feels like-No offense, Eighteen." She stated to the blond haired android beside her as she destroyed Krillin verbally.
"How'd all that nice machinery feel around that tiny pecker of yours? Oh wait -it was too short to reach, huh? Isn't that why you needed my help to make things work a little bit better? Created my own special vial of viagra made specifically for you -what are friends for, huh Krillin?" She smiled a cheshire cat grin, eyes cruelly taking in the devastation she was having on the short little shrimp.
Going in for the kill, her eyes glittered with malice as she got ready to take Krillin apart.
"Too bad for you Eighteen, though let me know when you want an upgrade for a bigger model honey, I don't think Krillin's quite ready to do the job right, though how you ever got pregnant I'll never know." Bulma replied, a saccharin smile on her face. Her steely blue eyes were ruthless, ready to do battle as she stared Krillin down.
Krillin sputtered in embarrassment, his face red as he turned, walking away from her quickly feeling humiliated, ignoring the sniggering of the other guests.
Gohan sighed, having witnessed everything.
Yep -this was the new normal among the Z-Fighters, each one of them now darker versions of themselves. Tearing each other down instead of building each other up. Their bond of friendship had become a joke, a farce- yet, they stayed together using their connection with Gohan as a way to stay close to the dearly departed Goku.
Without Goku, they were all nothing but strangers. It was one of the main reasons Gohan hadn't wanted a party, the reality was too painful and stark. Unfortunately, when they all got together, no matter their intentions, it always devolved into petty squabbling, insults, and Yamcha showing up drunk at some point, ruining the night.
The only reason he had allowed Bulma to plan this ridiculous party was because it had been the first spark of life he had seen out of the scientist in ages!
Goku's death had affected the woman hard, in ways no one had anticipated. Hiding herself up in her lab, tinkering away, forgetting there was life outside of Capsule Corp. The once vibrant woman had become trapped in her own prison, so Krillin belittling her had only made things worse, Gohan thought with a sigh.
The only one sympathetic to his feelings was his mother, her frown of disapproval at the tackiness they were witnessing, and the recurring arguments, for once appreciated.
Gohan, unable to take the complete disregard of his wishes, and the constant arguing, gave his mother his little brother Goten and walked away, needing some air.
This is not what I wanted at all!
Gohan growled passionately, wishing that he was back in the flowery fields staring at the beauty that was Piccolo, the memory filling him with warmth as well as an illicit flash of desire.
Gohan's face went a bit pink, heating his cheeks and reminding him why he shouldn't be around the green skinned gentle giant so easily.
Gohan was honestly too frustrated to hold back his desire for Piccolo, especially with him always looking so beautiful.
He slumped back against the wall, his back pressed defeatedly against it as he looked up at the sky, mind a whirl, the wind blowing softly, cooling his face.
He could hear the grumblings of the guests, the loud commotion of the rest of the Z-Fighters, Yajirobe and Korin just to name a few, showed up, flying in to join the festivities.
This was not how he'd wanted to spend his thirteenth birthday, preferring the quiet of the forest and the peace of Piccolo's waterfall to the chaos that was Capsule Corp.
The sun was high in the sky, just a few hours away from sunset.
Gohan couldn't wait to see the vibrant colors sunset caused in the sky, his favorite time of day because sunset was Piccolo's favorite. Just one more thing that tied them together.
The pink, purple, and blue hues always looked so much more radiant when he was sharing it with his namek, another precious memory to clutch close to his heart.
Gohan stared up at the sky, wondering if his departed father remembered what today was?
Did the man understand his impact on them all? Did he see the devastation left in his wake? Gohan pondered, trying to ignore the loud obnoxious voice of Yamcha as the man greeted everyone, drunk as usual, staggering around shouting Gohan's name, making him cringe.
At that moment, Gohan felt so alone, separated from everyone.
The weight of responsibility weighed heavy on him, the mantle crushing on his small shoulders.
Gohan couldn't help blaming himself for the deterioration of his father's friends.
He knew he was being unreasonable, he was only 13 years old- a kid , yet his father had entrusted him with not only the responsibility to defeat Cell, but Goku probably thought Gohan was strong enough to lead the Z-Fighters and hold them all together. If only the happy-go-lucky warrior had not been an idealistic fool and could see how Gohan had failed him after all.
So many thoughts raced through Gohan's head, knowing that he had only so long to hide away from everybody before they came looking for him.
It was his birthday, yet Gohan felt like the only person on earth. He had never really fit in, just too different, never really responding to things the way everyone else did.
Gohan not only rocked the boat with his odd ways and mannerisms, but destroyed it with a well timed ki -blast!
People put a lot of pressure on him to succeed, expecting him to behave like his dad. When he didn't-it confused them, making Gohan feel even more like an alien, a failure.
Piccolo was different though, he didn't fit the mode everyone had for him.
There was no other Namekian quite like him, Piccolo was in a class all his own.
Even Dende and the other Nameks of his home world could not compare, revealing that he alone carried the mantle of powerful magician and warrior. The only one that had ever come close was Nails, but even he could not compare.
Piccolo made Gohan feel normal, as if he wasn't some strange anomaly lost in his powerful father's shadow.
Gohan was growing older and finally seeing the realities of his existence.
The talk he'd had with his mother earlier had revealed a lot of hidden pain and resentment, but it had also given them both a sense of closure and the understanding needed between mother and son.
For so long, Gohan had seen his mother as a vengeful entity-the 'bad guy' to his father's 'good guy'-now he could accept that his mother was human, prone to mistakes just like he was. There was a peace and comfort in that fact, an understanding that for once he didn't need to be perfect, to meet anyone's expectations but his own.
Being able to confide in his mother about his feelings toward his father and Piccolo had been cathartic, releasing a burden he hadn't been quite aware of that weighed him down.
Chi-Chi now knew that Piccolo meant something to him, something special . And now she was willing to give him a chance! She had even promised it!
It filled Gohan with pure happiness that his stubborn mother was willing to meet him halfway. His life, though currently in shambles, had this one silver lining, one that left Gohan feeling optimistic. Mind finally together, instincts pushed down and controllable, Gohan pushed away from the wall, taking a deep stabilizing breath ready to face the volatile remnants of the Z-Fighters, he walked back into his party.
"Hey Gohan!"
"Where've you been buddy?" Yamcha called out, already three sheets to the wind.
"I bet you're excited, huh? You're legal now kid, Happy birthday!" Yamcha cried with a wink, a slick grin on his happy face.
His voice was slightly slurred, sluggish, as he laid a shaking hand on Gohan's shoulder, his body swaying to and fro as he continued to talk, congratulating the demi-saiyan.
Gohan sighed tiredly at the touch, his face impassive as he took in the other man. Unfortunately, used to the drunken antics Yamcha always pulled.
"I'm fine, Yamcha, but I'm only turning thirteen-not legal yet. I'm really not of age to do anything inappropriate." Gohan replied, gently moving Yamcha's hand from off his shoulder.
Yamcha let out a loud guffaw, raising his beer high in the air as if in a toast, taking a deep drink.
" Aww ...that's no fun! Too bad your dad's not here to enjoy the moment with you kid, but if you find me later I might let you have a tiny taste," motining to the beer in his hand. "Just don't tell the girls." he whispered suggestively. His expression sly as he glanced at Gohan, guzzling down the distasteful swill.
Gohan's face remained stoic, trying not to show his disgust at Yamcha's antics. "That's ok, Yamcha, I don't drink and you really shouldn't either." He replied kindly, knowing the older man would dismiss his words. He always did when he was on a bender.
Yamcha laughed, waving his hand dismissively at Gohan, he spun around as he grabbed a shot glass off a tray, gulping it down.
"I'm fine kid, I don't got a problem, just having a good time." He replied defensively, denial clear in his voice. Wiggling his empty shot glass wildly, he motioned to Gohan's mother who was coming at them fast.
"You see kid, you've got to live!"
" Life's too short to worry about things that don't matter. We all thought death was escapable- a wish on the dragonballs and poof -back to life. Ironically, it was your father that introduced us to the awesome power of the dragonballs, and it was also your father who taught us that death can come to even the strongest of warriors. Ain't that a damn shame..." he replied softly, his voice a drunken whisper, but the truth in his words stole Gohan's breath.
Nobody liked when Yamcha drank. He could be a hapless idiot-committing embarrassing acts that he barely remembered the next morning. But oftentimes he would hit them with a truth so randomly stated, that nobody knew how to cope. Yamcha was dangerous in a way no one had anticipated. He struck like a serpent, sharp like a serrated knife digging into their psyche until there was nothing left but the tattered embers of their emotions.
Yamcha gave a loud guffaw, obnoxious in his delivery, while his laughter and drinking habit hid a pain that choked him everytime he thought about Goku.
The only thing that helped the troubled man was drinking to numb the pain, a fact that he knew the other's hated but he was unable to stop.
Yamcha grinned, his eyes glassy. "My advice to you kid is to forget, forget the rules, forget living up to impossible standards and just take what you want. What has being a goody-two-shoes ever gotten you, huh?" He said wisely to Gohan, nearly stumbling as he leaned down into Gohan's face, the beer fumes and the scent of liquor so strong it had Gohan wrinkling his nose in disgust.
"I gave your dad his first shot of liquor, you know? He was freakishly good at holding his liquor, but give that guy a mixed drink with barely any alcohol and he gets wasted !" Yamcha laughed out loud, shaking his head as he reminisced.
"That was Goku for you-always surprising and beating the odds..." He trailed off sadly, feeling old for the first time as he stared into the eyes of his best friend's son. "I was older than him, you know, yet, he did so much more than I ever could. I will always miss Goku." He said, voice maudlin, quiet.
The older man had been drinking since that morning. In celebration of little Gohan growing up, Yamcha wanted to get a head start on the party. But the reality that Goku wouldn't be around to see his own son grow up, froze his heart and killed him a little bit more inside.
"Don't live your life with regrets, Gohan, not like us." Yamcha slurred out sloppily. His hazy brown eyes had a short moment of clarity before they became dazed once again.
" Regrets —that's all this is, Gohan. Just a bunch of hasbeens filled with regrets trying to relive our glory days, the great Z-Fighters, and Goku…Goku, Goku, Goku ..." he trailed off bitterly, pointing at the other Z-Fighters as he spoke.
"We did so much for the earth, sacrificed so much—but what did we have to show for it!" He ranted, so passionately , that his hand, which was clenched tight around his beer bottle, crushed it, breaking it into tiny fragments that turned to dust in his hands.
"Be better than us, Gohan." Yamcha said quietly, gripping his shoulder tight, looking Gohan dead in the eye. For a second there, Yamcha's eyes seemed to burn right through him, sober and alert, conveying what he needed to the teen boy.
Intense, they stared each other down until Yamcha pulled away, waving at Oolong and Master Roshi as he took off, laughing and chattering loudly, so different from his previously serious demeanor. Yamcha acted as if the last few minutes hadn't even happened!
With Yamcha's last words ringing in his ears, Gohan looked down at the unopened beer bottle Yamcha had managed to slip into his hand before he'd taken off, contemplating it.
Before he could even be tempted to open the bottle, his mother stormed up, aggressive, her eyes narrowed in fury. She didn't have to say a word as she extended her hand out, waiting for Gohan to put the illicit beverage in her hands.
The woman cursed under her breath, pissed that that drunk Yamcha would dare give her son beer on his thirteenth birthday! Usually she would have screeched and went off, but she was trying her hardest to work on trusting her son and not going off the deep end all the time.
But drinking was where she drew the line.
Gohan nodded to his mother in understanding, proud that she hadn't made a scene, a rare feat for Chichi.
Leaving his mother to dispose of the beer, Gohan wandered around, greeting his guests but unconsciously keeping to himself. He wished Piccolo was there, the only person he really gave a damn about besides his mother and baby brother.
Today was supposed to be a good day but all Gohan felt was tired.
Age was so relative, time was relative . A simple construct that brought comfort to humans but to a saiyan-human hybrid like him, his birthday only brought confusion.
With wild instincts and uncontrollable amounts of power, Gohan's differences only illustrated the clear divide between him and so many others.
Saiyans didn't age -at least not the way humans did. After a certain point, they stopped aging, retaining their youthful appearance while the world aged around them.
This was not knowledge Gohan had been told or taught, but through keen observation and attention to detail, he had watched his father and Vegeta, not age. Both still as youthful as they had been when they had first come to earth.
Understanding saiyans was a passtime for Gohan.
Cataloging their traits and behaviors, he had been able to learn so much, so much so- that he was able to identify when both were merely mimicking human like behavior instead of it happening naturally.
It had been Vegeta honestly that had clue him in to this fact, when Gohan had found out that Vegeta was nearly ten years older than his father Goku -Gohan had been fascinated, he had overheard a conversation between the Saiyan prince and Bulma that Saiyan's aged at a much slower rate than humans and lived longer lifetimes!
It had simply blown his mind!
Leading him to wonder what the effect his human side would have on his own aging?
Gohan was a natural researcher, he needed to understand himself and the world around him.
Vegeta and Goku on the other hand, were both doers, they weren't the type to sit and explain things to him, so Gohan watched, knowing it was the only way to learn and understand himself.
But Gohan had come to understand that he was distinctly unique, no one else was like him, not even Goten or Trunks.
Goten and Trunks were more like their Saiyan Fathers than he was.
Sometimes he wished he wasn't such an anomaly, but this was his lot in life and Gohan was learning to accept it. The only good thing about his slow aging was the fact that his long life span would match Piccolo's, meaning they could be together forever!
The thought filled Gohan with warmth, ideas and half-formed fantasies consuming him as he thought of his future with Piccolo. All he had to do was wait out his party then he could go in search of his beloved Piccolo.
Gohan could kick himself, he knew it had been foolish to think he could go a day without seeing the Namekian.
The party was in full swing, when a scent that sent his senses reeling engulfed him, freezing his entire body. He trembled, hands shaking as he inhaled deeply, taking in that much loved aroma.
….Piccolo…
The name purred through his mind as his body went haywire, while his saiyan instincts fought for dominance.
Gohan whirled around in shock, sensing the one he loved most!
Looking up, Gohan saw his beloved coming down from the sky like an avenging angel. Piccolo flew until he was hovering in front of him, his strong regal form left Gohan breathless, anxious to touch the divine being.
He gulped, saliva pooling in his mouth as he stared up at the object of his desire.
Piccolo landed softly on the ground, far away from the rest of the inhabitants of the party. His purple gi and white cloak swirled around him, while his turban sat like a crown upon his head.
His sensitive ears picked up the merry chatter of the rest of the Z-Fighters as they visited one another, partying and making merry.
Piccolo, whose gaze was serious, demeanor calm. Finally took notice of Gohan, not saying a word as they both stood, regarding each other.
" P-Piccolo! ?" Gohan stuttered, flabbergasted as he continued to stare mindlessly at his beloved. His palms were sweaty with the need to touch, to take hold of the elegant form and kiss him into oblivion.
Piccolo, unaware of Gohan's wayward thoughts, spoke coolly, his voice a deep rumble. A lyrical song holding a sophisticated intonation that teased Gohan's ear with its magnetic sound.
Piccolo's voice had always soothed Gohan, even as a child. He had loved hearing the gruff namekian speak, finding it a treat to his young ears. Now at thirteen, Piccolo's voice did a lot more than just soothe him, often leaving him hard and aching, begging for the delicious sound to sweep him away into ecstasy.
The young demi-saiyan fell hard, so in love with his stern mentor that he could barely function as Piccolo's voice cast a sensual spell over him.
" Gohan , I am not one to discuss trivialities, but in this I will speak. I do not know if it was your intention to not invite me to the day of your birth, your birthing day—as you humans say. Though such human foibles such as birthdays are not my usual concern, I find myself perplexed."
"To remember the many times you would not let me ignore this blasted day! Begging maniacally, as you cried and pleaded to get your way." Piccolo replied sardonically, a fanged smile curling his plush lips.
"Though such remembrances are neither here nor there, I've come to this Kami-forsaken place to give you this— " he held up two beautiful crystal weights as he continued to explain.
"Though human customs are odd to me, I have found some practicality in this ability to give others things that can be useful. Something that is not a waste of my time..." He grumbled lowly, his arms crossed against his chest as he huffed adorably. Annoyed that he'd been forced to show an ounce of vulnerability, while a flash of purple spread across his high cheekbones in a becoming blush.
" Here--" he rasped darkly, thrusting his gift at Gohan as he tossed the two beautiful crystal weights at him. They were light, yet powerful and very useful. When energy was added to them they became heavy, simulating the anti-gravity chamber allowing one to train at different levels of earth's gravity, also they were good at drawing away bad energy. Once again Piccolo had given Gohan a gift that was as sensible as it was lovely.
Gohan stared down at his gift in disbelief.
While Piccolo looked away, feeling bashful. Refusing to watch Gohan react to his gift as the green giant swiftly turned around to fly back from where he'd come.
Touched by the thoughtful gift from his mentor, Gohan hurried after the fleeing namek.
" Wait— Piccolo!"Gohan cried , flying faster than the speed of light until he was blocking his master's way, standing in front of him.
Piccolo turned away, stopping abruptly. He didn't turn around to look at him, instead he spoke with his back to Gohan.
" Gohan -I meditated on this, and have finally come to a conclusion. You've made yourself perfectly clear that my presence is no longer needed or wanted in your life." he replied solemnly, his voice a low rumble, deep - his face refusing to show emotion.
" Piccolo it's not what you think—," Gohan cried, but was harshly interrupted as Piccolo spun around, his amethyst colored eyes flashing with anger as he snarled, fangs bared in fury.
"Do not lie to me!" He snarled.
Claws digging into the green flesh of his hands as he clenched them into fists, trembling with the force of his anger. His eyebrow ridges were pulled down into a scowl as he hissed at Gohan, saying his piece.
"I am not a fool Gohan!"
"Did you think I would not notice what you were doing? You've avoided me, lied to me, told me excuse after excuse, instead of being honest with me! Pulling away without a word as if I was a burden!" Piccolo bellowed out in a harsh exhale. His face, twisted up in agony as he lost control of his emotions for a second, rapidly returned to its previous stoic mask.
It mocked him, Gohan thought as he stared searchingly into his mentor's eyes. Filled with panic and desperation as he took in Piccolo's impassive demeanor. It was quiet around them, as if nature itself was holding its breath during their confrontation.
Piccolo took a deep breath, eyes closed as he concentrated, trying to corral his emotions. He waved a clawed hand, letting out a breath, as he turned and faced Gohan, his eyes sad but an expression of understanding soon came upon his face.
"I know I'm wrong to feel such things, to think I was entitled to any part of you or your time. You owe me nothing. No explanations or answers. My role as your mentor is to guide you and help you become a young man I can be proud of."
"I was selfish, behaving like some useless human …" he sneered in disdain, shaking his head ruefully, lips twisted up in a wry smile, a mocking gleam in his eye.
"Such worthless notions were beneath me, I am a fighter— a warrior willing to put my very life on the line to protect the weak, I have no time to wallow in sensitivity. It's not about me, Gohan, it was never about me. I'm not important. My value is relative to your value, and you're so much more than me." He said sincerely.
"It's about you becoming the greatest warrior in the universe and what I can do to make you happy and make your life just a little bit easier." He replied gruffly, his fangs gleaming in the light.
Piccolo's rich baritone made the painful words sound sweet, enticing. Forcing Gohan to ignore the beautiful voice and the lips they came out of, and focus on the words being said.
"Pitiful human sentiment is not something I care about, a thing I grew up regarding as superfluous. Now protecting earth and all its inhabitants is something worthwhile, it's my role, a duty I take very seriously. One taught to me by a whiny little brat that cried all the time…"He finished softly, staring at Gohan with a nostalgic smile.
A rare sight for the stern Namekian.
"You taught me that Gohan—showed me that life was so much more than vengeance, violence, or greed . That every single life was worthy of protection." Piccolo stated simply, nodding his head slowly as he regarded the demi-saiyan with fondness.
" But ….. I have noticed a grave difference in our relationship, Gohan." He said softly, face serious.
"I knew this day would come, just not so soon. I knew that you would one day find your place in society—become a normal person and do those normal human... things…," he grumbled in strong dislike, rolling his eyes.
"I knew that you would no longer have need of me, Gohan; especially as you grew older and found your way in the world. "
"Gohan —your place is among the humans, not some 7ft tall green skinned alien like me."
Chuckling slightly in dark amusement, Piccolo shook his head. "Don't worry kid, you'll be 're the strongest in the universe, Gohan, I know because I taught you." He said cockily smirking.
A lone, salutary sharp fang dug into Piccolo plush green lips as he smiled, making Gohan ache to have it biting into his flesh.
The sudden lash of arousal rushed through him, hitting Gohan like a lightning strike. filled with loathing at his inappropriate behavior, especially in the situation he had found himself in, on his birthday no less.
It honestly felt like a break-up.
Never even got to have a date with my beloved and already we're having the break-up talk! Gohan thought despairingly as tears welled up in his eyes.
"Y-You can't just—you can't just leave me!" Gohan cried out pitifully, tears staining his cheeks.
Piccolo sighed.
"I'm holding you back kid—and you need to be free of me to grow. I see that now. It's time for me to silently melt into obscurity, so you can spread your wings. Become the Gohan that can stand strong alone, even if it's without me." Piccolo stated kindly, his words wise, face peaceful, but his eyes were so sad.
The harsh reminder of a life without Piccolo reminded him of all he stood to lose if Piccolo left him because of his out of control infatuation.
Ruffling Gohan's hair fondly like he used to back when Gohan was a kid, the action tied them together, but Piccolo couldn't help feeling troubled by what he was doing. But he knew it needed to be done.
This was the first time he'd seen Gohan face to face, in half a year! Something was wrong with Gohan and it somehow involved him, though Piccolo had no idea what it was? Piccolo needed to be needed, there was nothing he feared more than being obsolete or a burden. If he no longer had value to Gohan's life or served a purpose then Piccolo needed to take himself out of the equation. He refused to be a hindrance to Gohan!
Touching Gohan brought comfort to him, Piccolo admitted to himself. The Saiyan-human hybrid was his precious friend, so it was hard to prepare himself to say goodbye to his only friend.
His long antenna moved minutely with every shift of his expression, the only tell that Piccolo's tranquil expression was hiding a wealth of turmoil.
Gohan on the other hand, was at a loss. Piccolo's words speared through him, butchering his soul, but despite it all Gohan could hear the care and concern Piccolo had for him. Piccolo was doing this not because he wanted to, but because he really believed it would be better for Gohan. The naive fool had no idea that he was the very air Gohan breathed!
Gohan noticed the slight glimmer of regret in Piccolo's eyes, knowing that the decision hurt the gentle giant no matter his stern facade. For just a second, an expression of absolute grief flashed across Piccolo's face, then it was gone as if it had never been there.
The realization stunned him, reminding Gohan that his stern-faced master wasn't the type to just give up and walk away, nor abandon those he cared about for nothing.
Piccolo, for all his aloofness, was loving. He hid it expertly, but Gohan had always been able to see his heart.
That was why he knew that something was deathly wrong with this situation. Piccolo would only contemplate something like this if he thought his absence was what Gohan wanted or needed to be happy.
Piccolo, you damn naive idiot! You beautiful green-skinned martyr! Gohan thought with heartbreaking fondness and anger.
The fear and adoration swirling around inside him raised his blood pressure so high that it was boiling inside him while his power level continued to rise the more Piccolo spoke.
Despite what society and the rest of the world thought, Piccolo was the most thoughtful and pure-hearted person Gohan had ever met!
He was always the first to lay down his life in a fight, willing to sacrifice himself for the greater good. If that wasn't pure goodness then Gohan didn't know what was!?
Piccolo did what was needed, without any sense of self-preservation or a thought to his own safety. He did it without an ounce of thanks or appreciation, only Gohan saw his worth and value, considering the namek priceless.
Especially when people considered him a demon, not realizing that Piccolo was the reason that many humans were still breathing or brought back to life.
Piccolo was the most underrated of the Z-Fighters, though many of their comrades knew he was strong, most had no idea of the contributions and impact Piccolo had on many of their successful battles.
Gohan truly wouldn't be the fighter or warrior he was today if it had not been for Piccolo.
He hated to say it, but his father hadn't done shit to make him into the man he was today. Gohan was who he was because of Piccolo's influence, now the one person he respected, loved, and idealized the most, above all others, was leaving him and Gohan could only blame himself.
He felt his heart breaking, almost hearing the ripping sound as the jagged pieces dug into him, piercing his soul.
Heart crying out in pain as his love told him a silent goodbye, because that was what this was- a goodbye .
Piccolo was leaving him, the thought choked Gohan, his very breath constricted in his chest. The world went silent, his mind filled with white noise as Gohan tried to make sense of what was happening.
His eyes caught on the pure whiteness of Piccolo's cape, the cloth billowing around the muscular frame while the wind teased the clothing as if it could not help but to touch such a stately being.
Even nature was in awe of Piccolo's loveliness.
Piccolo's face remained impassive, while Gohan struggled to grapple with what was unfolding in front of him.
The hard and uncompromising stare Piccolo was giving him gave nothing away, a total brick wall Gohan could not get through.
Piccolo was so impenetrable that Gohan, who considered himself an expert on all things Piccolo, could barely read him.
Even his telepathic connection to Piccolo was blocked —nothing but radio silence on his end, no matter how hard he tried to reach Piccolo telepathically.
It was that , more than anything, that made Gohan realize that Piccolo was serious.
The realization that his desire to protect Piccolo from his wild and crazy behavior and out of control hormones had unintentionally pushed his love away from him.
Piccolo had no idea why Gohan was keeping him at a distance.
He was completely in the dark about the danger he was constantly in around Gohan.
He didn't know that the distance was done for his protection, all he knew was that Gohan was always avoiding him. So much so, that the boy would leave as soon as he sensed that Piccolo was anywhere near him.
He had no idea about Gohan's rabid lust for him, he was completely clueless of the stalking , or the great pains Gohan took to be near him yet still undetectable to Piccolo's superior sensitivity to sound and shifts in power. Now it was all falling apart around him and Gohan was losing his mind!
The realization was crushing, now understanding that he had hurt his beloved master. As a result, the Namekian teenager turned away from him in order to do what he perceived Gohan wanted him to do.
Because Piccolo at his core, was selfless, and even if it hurt him he would do all he could for Gohan, even leave him if that was what was required.
Gohan knew all this, understanding his love like no other. Piccolo was so innocent and naive, that he only mirrored what Gohan put out into the atmosphere.
Gohan had a big responsibility towards Piccolo, despite Piccolo being four years older, Gohan was the dominant one between them. His young age notwithstanding, Gohan was the more experienced and knowledgeable about the ways of the world, especially in regards to sex, love, and intimacy.
Gohan had no doubt his Piccolo was clueless about such matters, and why wouldn't he be when his only focus had ever been fighting!
The inhabitants of earth were blind to the treasure Piccolo was.
Honestly he was doubly glad his father and Vegeta were idiots, both captured by strong minded women and unaware of the gift they had had in their midst when Gohan had been a weak, ineffectual child.
The thought that he could have lost his love before he had him to one of the other Z-Fighters if they had had enough intelligence to see Piccolo's worth, galled him.
Now he was about to lose his love because of his own foolish actions and fear had him ready to beg for his life, to plead for the majestic beauty to never leave his side!
Gohan trembled. Every inch of him shaking violently as he reached out a hand to Piccolo, hoping to stop his beloved from walking out of his life. But Piccolo simply shrugged his hand away, pulling back from Gohan as if he couldn't even look at him!
"Piccolo—I NEED YOU!"Gohan wept, his heart stuttering in his chest. "I know I screwed up, ignoring you was a mistake , but I promise you are the most important person in my life!"
Piccolo shook his head. "No Gohan, you're just saying that." Piccolo said stubbornly, "I know that I'm a burden to you, Son , I will not be your charity case!" Piccolo snarled, spitting with fury.
"You think I'm a fool! I don't need your pity! I survived this world alone, I can do it again."
"You have a kind and soft heart Gohan, but like in battle you have to be strategic and let things go, especially distractions, and I'm a distraction. I want the best for you Gohan." He said earnestly.
His stubbornness to sacrifice himself was getting on his nerves and pushing Gohan to the limit. For once, he wished Piccolo could be a little selfish.
Damn this self-sacrificing idiot!
Piccolo had really gotten it into his head that Gohan didn't need him anymore and he refused to budge.
"Damn it! I left you first, but it was to protect you!" He begged, falling to his knees and wrapping his arms around Piccolo's legs.
Piccolo startled, staring in stunned disbelief as Gohan literally begged, making him feel uncomfortable.
This was wrong, so wrong! Piccolo thought.
Gohan was powerful, he should never be on his knees to anyone, especially not him!
"GET UP BRAT!WHAT DO YOU THINK ARE YOU DOING!" Piccolo bellowed, growling loudly, grabbing Gohan by the arms and yanking him back on his feet.
"Are you crazy Gohan!? What has gotten into you? Where is your pride, you moron!?" He spat out bewildered, unreasonably angry with the demi-saiyan's weird behavior. He knew Gohan could be emotional but this was ridiculous!
Gohan's face became dark in anger, a rage unlike any other ran amok inside him.
How dare he!
Piccolo had no right, he had no idea the pain and the suffering he'd endured trying to keep from ravaging the clueless namek. Gohan had lost his pride a long time ago, and now he'd finally lost his hold on his patience and control. It was time Piccolo understood just what Gohan had been protecting him from.
" Pride, you say?— I have no pride. I lost that the moment I wanted to rip your clothes off and have my way with you." Gohan purred, his gaze direct as he stared Piccolo down heatedly.
Piccolo looked at Gohan predictably confused, his expression twisted up adorably and unintentionally arousing. Smiling darkly, Gohan spoke softly as the dark side of himself revealed itself. Hungering for a piece of the namek.
" Aww , did I confuse you Pic-co-looo ?" His voice intentionally sing-songy, as he said his lover's name, smiling coyly as he eyed his obsession up and down, his expression arrogant yet wanting.
Piccolo was taken aback, this was not how Gohan behaved at all. This cockiness, and borderline arrogance was more Vegeta's style, not Gohan's. The boy was usually a crybaby—heck he had been one not more than a second ago, but now his whole demeanor had changed, and Piccolo didn't know what to make of it?
Gohan could feel his saiyan side push to be let out and he welcomed the change, finally allowing it free reign.
Piccolo had foolishly threatened to leave him and now he would have to suffer the consequences, he thought possessively.
" Yessss ," Gohan said with a hiss, "I want you naked , crying out for me as I plunder this beautiful body of yours." he whispered hotly, caressing Piccolo's cheek as he drew even closer, his fingers running down his neck sensually.
Piccolo stumbled back, feeling uncomfortable. The soft touch had seared through his skin, leaving him reeling as he tried to make sense of Gohan's words and actions.
This was not behavior he was experienced dealing with, nor like any battle he'd ever been in. In his opinion, it was weird for a warrior to talk about fighting in such a way. Only in a fight had Piccolo ever worn ripped up clothing, and nakedness? There was no situation that Piccolo had ever been so fully exposed, except maybe bathing? So what was Gohan getting at with such talk? He wondered to himself.
Though Piccolo barely knew what was going on, some instinct inside him warned him to be leery, to not let Gohan touch him lightly.
He didn't know why it would be dangerous, but it was. Something told him so, if Gohan touched him at this very moment he sensed it would change his life forever.
Gohan chuckled, finding his love's skittishness cute.
He smiled charmingly, before he was suddenly standing behind Piccolo—surprising the Namekian, as Gohan yanked him by his purple gi before he could react, and tossed him 20 meters away.
Gohan's strength was surprisingly strong, even in his base form. Flying after the harrassed namek, Gohan was happy he had tossed Piccolo far enough away to not be noticed by those attending his party.
The things he intended to do to Piccolo was not for the faint of heart or the type of things he wanted witnessed. Let's just say, if someone was unlucky enough to stumble upon them they would get an eye full and probably a ki-blast to the chest!
Gohan was irrationally jealous and possessive, he was obsessed with Piccolo and would not tolerate anyone looking at his love during their intimacy.
Piccolo was attempting to pick himself up, when Gohan suddenly attacked him! Knocking him down on the ground as he sat dominantly on top of him.
"Gohan!—this isn't funny! What is the meaning of this!? If you want to spar then spar , but ask me if that's what you want, but don't knock me around unless you're ready to get hit back!" Piccolo snapped roughly, baring his fangs at him.
Gohan smirked, a sly grin creeping up his face. He leaned forward, burying his face in Piccolo's neck inhaling his scent. He wanted to lick those fangs, to cut his lips on them, but he had a feeling that would terrify his love and Gohan for all his passion refused to play out his most depraved fantasies, at least not yet!
"Sorry love, but I have a different type of sparring in mind for us." He answered suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows and smiling recklessly as he took in Piccolo's prone form.
Taking a great big breath, he let out a helpless groan, his nose rubbing against the soft skin of Piccolo's clavicle, feeling light headed.
Piccolo's scent was tantalizing his senses as consuming desire ran rampant throughout his body.
Piccolo huffed, "do you really have to sit atop me and do something as uncouth as sniffme, Gohan!?
Gohan grinned, "but you smell so lovely Piccolo! Yummy !" He cooed adoringly, staring at Piccolo with an intensity that made Piccolo oddly uncomfortable. As he licked his neck, his teeth nibbling the sensitive flesh.
Shocked— Piccolo gasped, turning a bright purple he froze, incredulous that this was actually happening to him. Gohan was licking him and Piccolo didn't know how to take it!?
His mind was whirling, flesh heating, even his breathing was speeding up. Piccolo couldn't stop the tremors that ran unchecked up and down his spine. The nes sensations were troubling for the clueless namek.
Gohan was doing something with his tongue that had Piccolo scrambling to get away, but Gohan held him tight, his young body deceptively strong, holding Piccolo prisoner, and at his mercy.
"Get ready Piccolo, I'm going to show you why you will never even contemplate leaving my side again! I am going to give you so much pleasure, that when I'm done with you you will barely know your own name, too busy screaming out mine!" He promised with a confident smirk, a possessive gleam in his eye.
Piccolo gulped . For the first time in his life, he was actually afraid as he watched Gohan helplessly. The demi-saiyan's smile chilled his blood as sparks of electricity, blond hair and beautiful blue-green eyes haunted him while Gohan slowly crept forward, releasing the full force of his power...