Hotshot: Hopefully I got the insecure part written down right. Enjoy!

Summary: Yamcha doesn't mind his face scars, he's proud of them. He is only insecure about the scars on his torso.

Warnings/Tags: Insecure!Yamcha, Scars, fluff

Yamcha sat on the roof of the cabin that he shared with 17. The android had offered him a spare room several months ago when he couldn't live at Bulma's anymore, mainly because of Vegeta and his snide remarks. So, he had accepted and now had his things in the spare room. Living at the cabin actually felt like home.

"Oi, scars!" he heard 17 shout from below. He shifted closer to the edge and peered over it at 17, who had a case, a small bucket and two fishing rods.

"What?"

"Get your ass down here! We're fishing for our supper today!"

Yamcha groaned mentally before jumping off of the roof and landing in front of the other. He stuffed his hands in his pocket before following 17 to a nearby river before sitting down on the bank and watched as 17 got their rods ready and casted them, putting a pile of rocks around the tip of the handle so they wouldn't have to hold them at all while they wait. There was hardly any shade, so they were out in the sun, which was already making Yamcha start to sweat slightly.

"You can take off your shirt, you know." 17 spoke after an hour of waiting.

"I'm good." Yamcha waved him off slightly.

"You're gonna overheat."

"I said, I'm good." Yamcha huffed.

"I can see your sweat, idiot."

Yamcha growls before tugging his shirt off and threw it behind him, his form slumped. He knew 17 could now see the visible scars that went across his side that was facing his way, as well as the scars on Yamcha's back since he was slumping, though 17 could see what looked like a half scar that looked...circular on the other's back.

Yamcha hoped in the name of Kami that 17 wouldn't try to ask about the exit scar on his back, He had enough problems showing it and the entrance scar as it is- even if it's just him in the room.

It was quiet for a moment before he movement and that's when he felt a bare finger touch the scar on his side, making him try and jolt away. "Don't touch-!"

17 didn't let him finish the demand as he tackled Yamcha to the ground, resulting with them rolling in the grass for a minute until 17 finally pinned Yamcha.

"Damn it 17, get off!" Snapped Yamcha as he squirmed, trying to get out of the other's hold desperately.

"This is an interesting looking one." 17 suddenly stated before raising a hand. Yamcha's body froze up when he felt a finger touch his circular scar in the middle of his lower chest. He managed to pushed 17 away and crawled backwards until they were a few feet apart and wrapped his arms around his lower chest.

"I-I said don't touch!" Yamcha snapped harshly. He saw his shirt laying a few feet away from him and he began to scramble over to it when an arm snapped out and wrapped around his waist and brought him backwards into a smaller body and another arm joined the first, making him sit in between 17's legs. He squirmed but stopped when a hand splayed itself on his lower chest, over his scar, a thumb rubbing just about it.

17 asked the question that he dreaded answering, a simple "who?".

Yamcha was quiet for a moment before speaking in an emotionless tone. "Gero."

17 humphed at that. "Looks like I did have a greater reason for killing him after all."

Yamcha frowned. What did 17…

He blinked when he felt 17 shift and in the next moment, 17 was on his lap, facing him. He shivered when he felt 17 traced the scar.

Then, there was lips on his and a set of blue eyes that bore into his own. He let out a startled noise and 17 seemed to be encouraged by that, reaching up and grasping Yamcha's jaw with his free hand before forcing Yamcha's mouth to open and slipped his tongue into the other's mouth, causing Yamcha to groan.

They sat like this for a few more moments before 17 pulled back, a small smirk on his face. "Let's catch something so we can eat. Then we can do some….talking….after supper."

17 stood and walked back over to his rod, leaving Yamcha sitting there to process what just happened.

"By the way," 17 called back to him. "Don't hide your scars from me, or I will make sure you don't have any shirts to wear."

Yep, Yamcha thought, he must be going crazy.

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