Piccolo let out a moan against his pillow, his hands grasping at the bedsheets. Yamcha watched as his lover arched his back at his every touch and movement, biting his lip to keep his outbursts a little quieter.

"Th-this is okay, right? I'm not hurting you?" Yamcha asked nervously, but Piccolo immediately nodded his head eagerly.

"I-I'm fine. Go a little harder," he gasped out, clearly struggling to keep any semblance of composure. The former bandit was hesitant to do so, genuinely afraid of hurting Piccolo or their egg in the process, but he complied. He kneaded the heel of his palm against the middle of the Namekian's back with a bit more force than before, eliciting an indescribable sound that his partner immediately stifled by slapping a hand over his own mouth, the hue of purple across his cheeks deepening slightly. Yamcha could barely hold in a small chuckle of amusement, though he was sure Piccolo was a little too distracted at the moment to take notice even if he hadn't.

"Jeez, this kid's got you all tied up in knots. Does this really feel that good?" he asked with a small smirk as he continued to massage his boyfriend's back.

"Trust me, right now this feels a million times better than sex…" he groaned out, at which point Yamcha's own cheeks heated up.

"H-hey!"

"No offense, of course," Piccolo added quickly, a smirk appearing across his own lips now.

Once Piccolo had his fill of Yamcha's tension-relieving touches, he seemed to collapse fully against the bed, panting lightly to catch his breath. Yamcha had taught himself to not freak out when his partner became so short of breath so easily. With how big the egg in his chest had gotten, his lung capacity was effectively halved at the moment, and it wasn't unusual for him to become winded at the simplest of tasks. The former bandit merely sat there at his side, gently running a hand along the length of the Namekian's back to further calm him.

The past few days had gradually become hell for the poor guy. He could hardly get a decent night of sleep anymore, since he couldn't for the life of him find a comfortable position to lie in. He used to eat a little when they had dinner together, but lately he couldn't keep anything in his stomach. Even water seemed to make him nauseous. Most concerning of all were the sudden muscle spasms he was getting. Yamcha found himself having a small panic attack whenever Piccolo suddenly clutched painfully at his chest, only to feel as though he'd lost a year of his life to the stress of it all when it inevitably proved to be a false alarm minutes later.

Dende had been by to check on them a day ago, and it seemed that the young healer's predicted due date of 'sometime in February' was right on the money. The child guardian had told Yamcha to keep a close eye on Piccolo, warning that he could have the egg literally any day now. Yamcha couldn't decide whether he wanted the whole ordeal over with as soon as possible, or if he wanted it to delay it for as long as possible. Given how Piccolo was feeling lately, however, he was now leaning heavily towards the 'get it over with' side, if only for his lover's sake.

"Hey, I'll be right back, okay?" Yamcha said softly once Piccolo seemed able to relax for a rare moment. The Namekian merely replied with a barely-audible grunt of acknowledgement, clearly eager to take advantage of one of the few moments of relative comfort he could enjoy lately. Yamcha made sure not to mention that he was wandering downstairs to get something to eat. Just the mere mention of food tended to set off Piccolo's gag reflex recently, and he didn't want to do that to him now that he was finally able to get a few moments of rest. As he left the room, Yamcha leaned in close to where Puar was seated on the dresser.

"Keep an eye on him, alright? Come get me if anything happens…" he whispered to her, to which she gave a definitive nod of her head. He then gave one last backward glance toward Piccolo before closing the door as quietly as possible behind him.

Yamcha made his way downstairs, glad to be able to take a moment to himself. He didn't mind caring for his partner like this, especially right now, but… Well, he'd never imagined the sort of stress and agony that all the waiting brought. He was sure it was much worse for Piccolo, but still…

"Hey, how's it going?"

Yamcha damn near jumped right out of his skin when a voice addressed him out of nowhere as he reached the bottom of the stairs. He glanced around, soon spotting Bulma's head peeking in from the foyer.

"Wh-what the hell?! Jeez, you scared the shit outta me! How'd you even get in here? What, did you copy my house keys when I wasn't looking?"

Bulma replied with a playful grin, stepping into the hallway proper and clearly holding something behind her back.

"Honestly, do you guys even lock your door? I think you're getting too used to living out in the middle of nowhere. I just walked right in."

Yamcha let out an embarrassed laugh at that. Honestly, she had a point. It didn't help that he'd been so preoccupied with tending to Piccolo lately that locking the door was literally the last thing on his mind.

"So… What are you doing all the way out here?"

"Oh, well… You guys skipped out on my party yesterday, so I thought I'd swing by and see how things were going."

"O-oh, yeah… Sorry about that," Yamcha apologized, scratching at the back of his head. "Piccolo's been absolutely miserable lately. Sorry I didn't call or anything…"

"Oh no, that's alright! I remember how I was the last couple of weeks before Trunks was born. I was an absolute bitch to deal with."

"I-I mean, he's really not that hard to deal with. I just kinda feel bad for him right now, y'know? He's barely gotten any sleep over this past week."

"Yeah, I definitely understand that," she replied with a knowing nod. "Well, I guess he wouldn't be able to enjoy what I brought for you guys, then. Not until after he has his egg, at least."

Bulma then revealed what she'd been hiding behind her back, holding it out to him. It was a moderately sized heart-shaped box, the type that typically contained a variety of chocolates. Yamcha couldn't help but tilt his head in mild confusion.

"What's this for?"

"You're kidding, right?" she asked, arching a brow at him. "You realize what today is, don't you?"

Yamcha furrowed his brow for a moment, genuinely confused before it suddenly dawned on him.

"Ah man, you gotta be kidding me…" he replied mostly to himself. Well, this certainly wasn't the most romantic Valentine's Day the two of them had ever spent together, but he supposed he should have anticipated something like this. It was just his luck, after all. Bulma seemed to read his mind, letting out a small giggle.

"Yeah, kids tend to have the most rotten timing when it comes to stuff like this. Welcome to parenthood, buddy."

"Yeah, well… What about you? You're married, but you came all the way out here instead of spending the night with your husband?"

Bulma replied with a small scoff, rolling her eyes at the question.

"Please, you really expect Vegeta to be the type to take me out for a date night? Nah, he's off training or something. He couldn't care less for holidays like this. Honestly, it's more entertaining to come see how you two are faring than just sitting at home alone."

Yamcha couldn't help but let out a nervous chuckle at that.

"Y-yeah, well… I think the most exciting thing that could happen here wouldn't be the sort of thing you'd like to watch…"

"I mean, at least the way Namekians have babies isn't quite as gross as humans do it," she replied with a shrug of her shoulders. Yamcha couldn't help but arch a brow at her.

"Wait… You sound like you're talking from experience here. When did you ever see a Namekian have an egg?"

"Back when the survivors from Namek crashed at our place for like a year, of course," she replied matter-of-factly. "I think there were three that were pregnant while they stayed at Capsule Corp., and two of them were willing to let my dad and I observe when they had their eggs. I mean, it wasn't exactly pretty, but it was an interesting thing to be able to learn about."

"Huh…" Yamcha replied, hesitating slightly as he considered whether it would be acceptable to ask his next question. "So, uhhh… S-so, what's it like?"

"Are you serious?" Bulma asked with a slight smirk. "You didn't think to ask anyone about that until now?"

Yamcha couldn't stop the light blush from spreading across his cheeks, averting his gaze from her as though trying to avoid a bit of his shame.

"L-look, that's a really awkward thing to ask someone, especially after you've already gotten them pregnant, y'know?"

Bulma couldn't help but giggle at him a bit, but she did eventually answer his original question.

"Alright, I'll have mercy on you just this once. Have you ever seen a video of a snake trying to eat an egg?"

"Uuuhhh… Maybe once or twice?"

"Well, if you reverse the video and speed it up a bit, you've pretty much got a good idea of what it'll be like for a Namekian to have an egg. But, I mean… If I know you like I think I know you, you'll still be freaking out the whole time just because it's Piccolo and your own kid."

Yamcha couldn't help but let out a small whimper upon hearing that.

"Y-you're really not instilling me with a ton of confidence here…"

Bulma couldn't help but snicker at his misery, but eventually let up a bit on her teasing to offer him some small reassurance.

"You'll be fine, trust me. This is legitimately the hardest part. Once you get to the actual 'being a dad' part, you'll do great!"

"Th-thanks…" he replied meekly, a light blush returning to his cheeks. "I certainly hope you're right…"

"Of course I'm right! When have I ever not been right? You might be going in the wrong order, but you're eager enough and willing to learn!"

"H-hold on… What do you mean, 'I'm going in the wrong order?'" he asked, genuinely confused. Bulma couldn't help but arch a brow at that, setting her hands on her hips.

"Oh, I seem to remember a certain someone boasting about how when he has a kid, he was at least going to be responsible and be married first."

Yamcha let out a small groan at that, his shoulders slumping slightly. God, why'd she have to go and bring that up? That was what he'd said towards the end of their discussion – or, rather, argument – when she'd first told him she was pregnant with Vegeta's child. It had all gotten rather heated, as one may expect, ending in them shouting at one another and him storming out of the house.

Despite bringing up a rather unpleasant memory, he had to admit that she was right. Yamcha hadn't even thought of that. Honestly, the two of them had just been living together as though they were married already, though the idea never seemed to occur to either of them in all that time. He blushed lightly at the thought, scratching at the back of his head.

"I-I guess we just kinda forgot about all that. You think I should ask him?"

"Of fucking course you should! Hell, I was half expecting you to do that at the masquerade. I thought I did a good job of setting all that up, but I guess there was no accounting for that bomb Piccolo dropped on you," she replied, giving him a small wink. Yamcha couldn't help but stare at her with wide eyes at that. Wait, did she really set up that entire party just to manipulate him into proposing to Piccolo? He was honestly unsure whether he should feel grateful or creeped out by his ex doing something like that.

"Speaking of which…" she continued, "I think maybe you can afford to wait a little bit longer to pop the question, given the circumstances. I'm guessing Piccolo's not exactly in a fit state to have that conversation right now."

Yamcha opened his mouth to agree, but stopped short when he spotted movement out of the corner of his eye. A ball of fur floated through the air down the stairs, moving so fast it was practically a little blue blur. Only when it reached him did it slow down enough for him to register it as a panicking Puar.

"Y-Yamcha! Come quick! I think Piccolo's having the egg!"

That statement alone was enough to throw Yamcha into an absolute panic. Whatever mental preparation he'd done for this moment flew right out the window, and he found himself at a complete loss as to what to do. In his desperation, he found himself looking back at Bulma, silently begging with his eyes for her to help him. She seemed to understand right away, though she rolled her eyes at him a bit.

"Oh, don't be such a baby about it! Come on!" she grumbled out, taking hold of his wrist and dragging him up the stairs.

Once the three of them returned to the master bedroom, they found Piccolo practically curled up in a painful ball on the bed, one hand clutching at the fabric of his shirt over his chest, the other clamped securely over his mouth. Yamcha could already tell this was different than all the false alarms they'd been through, and the realization that it was really happening this time left him all but paralyzed to do anything. Luckily Bulma had no such problem, immediately throwing off her coat and rolling up her sleeves as she made her way over to the side of the bed, completely ready to take charge of the situation.

"C'mon, Piccolo, up you get…" she said softly as she directed the gravid Namekian to get up onto his hands and knees. Piccolo wasn't in a state to argue, doing as he was told despite having an unexpected guest there during such an emasculating event. Yamcha could see his partner's arms tremble under him from the pain as Bulma instructed him on how to breathe. Shit, this was really happening, wasn't it?

"Hey!" Bulma barked out at him suddenly, snapping him out of his daze. He glanced up from where he was just staring at his ailing lover, meeting her glaring gaze. "You've literally got one job, and it's the easiest one here! Now get your ass over here!"

Yamcha hesitated a step before making his way around to the other side of the bed. He knelt on the edge next to Piccolo, resting an unsure hand on the Namekian's own. Almost immediately, he felt the other's fingers clamp down so hard around his hand that he let out a small yelp. Yep, he definitely wouldn't be getting out of this without at least a broken hand, that was for sure. Still, he tried his best to ignore it, knowing that what Piccolo was going through was a million times worse. All he really had to do was try not to wince whenever his partner reflexively squeezed his hand.

After a few minutes, Piccolo's labored panting cut off abruptly, giving way to an uncomfortable silence. After such silence went on a little longer that Yamcha would have liked, he leaned over a bit to see if his partner was okay. He was quite caught off-guard by what he saw, genuinely unprepared for the huge watermelon-sized bulge in his lover's throat. His eyes widened almost in horror. Holy shit, he had no idea the egg would be that big! He quickly straightened up once more and averted his gaze, a weak whimper escaping him. He could practically feel Bulma rolling her eyes at him, but she held herself back from commenting at his reaction, instead focusing on the task at hand.

"You're doing great, Piccolo. Almost there…" she assured softly, rubbing a hand gently across his broad back. Yamcha was man enough to admit that he was too much of a coward to watch to moment of truth, instead focusing on some random spot on the ceiling and trying to convince himself not to freak out. Soon enough, he heard Piccolo draw in a deep gasp of air into his oxygen-starved lungs, his grip on the former bandit's hand finally letting up a little.

Yamcha decided that perhaps that meant it was safe to look, finally glancing down once more. Piccolo seemed completely drained of energy from the ordeal, his body dripping in sweat, his arms and legs looking as though they would give out under his weight at any second. He drew in deep, ragged breaths, clearly eager to take advantage of the fact that his lungs were no longer being compressed by the egg he'd held in his chest for the past five months. Speaking of which…

Yamcha glanced down at the bed directly underneath Piccolo, where now there rested a large pearl-white egg. He was almost surprised to find that the surface seemed perfectly smooth an undamaged by the ordeal it had just been through. After all, Piccolo was not a weak individual by any means, and with how much effort he'd put into birthing the thing, he would have guessed the egg might have suffered at least a crack or two. As it stood, he was relieved to find the surface unbroken.

"T-take it…" Piccolo managed to get out in barely a whisper, his voice strained and haggard. Yamcha wasn't sure what he meant at first, but soon thought he understood. He reached out and, as gently as he could, cradled their egg in his hands and moved it out from under his lover. Only when the egg was safely in his care did Piccolo allow himself to collapse fully onto the mattress below, utterly exhausted.

"H-hey! A-are you okay?" Yamcha asked in a panic, holding the egg close to his chest as he leaned over to check on his lover. He then shot Bulma a questioning look, as though begging her to tell him that everything was alright. Luckily, she answered his questioning stare with a beaming smile.

"He's fine. He's just tired, is all," she explained calmly. "Let him rest and he'll be back to normal in no time, I'm sure of it."

Yamcha let out a sigh of relief at that, though he still had to look down at Piccolo to ensure he was still breathing to fully dismiss his worst fears. With that panic-inducing moment past, he diverted his attention down to the egg resting securely in his arms.

It was still covered in a slick, almost transparent substance, though that was easily wiped away. Bulma was right – the way Namekians had kids was nowhere near as messy as the way humans did it, and he was grateful for that much, at least. The surface of the egg's shell was not perfectly smooth as glass as he'd expected just by looking at it, but slightly textured. He ran his fingers gently across its surface, feeling the subtle bumps and divots that were all but invisible to his naked eye. Most surprising of all, however, was what he felt inside. He could barely sense it, but there was the tiniest ki he'd ever felt already pulsing away just beneath the shell. On a whim, he reached out with his own energy, taking care not to let his ki flare too much. Much to his surprise, the tiny ki within the egg flared back slightly.

Yamcha could feel his heart skip a beat upon feeling that impossibly small energy reach out to him. The child was still several months away from truly being born, but already he felt like he was holding their baby in his arms. He couldn't stop the smile that spread across his lips as he stroked the surface of the egg gently, feeling as the miniscule weight shifted slightly within.

"Hey there, kiddo…"