A/N: I wanted to update sooner, but I had to work hella hours this past week. This chapter was also a beast to finish. I hope you all enjoy it. We're around the 100,000 word mark, which is a new achievement for me. I've never written this much for a story before. We're almost at the finish line!

Also, did anyone watch Episode 14 of Dragon Ball Super this weekend?! The gods smiled down upon us and created a beautiful Vegeta x Goku moment. Be sure to check that episode out!

Everybody Loves Vegeta, Too!

Part Seventeen Falls into Winter

"I never knew Namekians made great babysitters." Vegeta gently landed in Mr. Satan's backyard.

Piccolo glared at him from across the lawn. Cradled between his hulking arms sat a tiny baby with a messy mop of black hair. Vegeta laughed; Piccolo barely fit in the wicker lawn chair he rocked back and forth in.

"What're you doing here," Piccolo growled. Baby Pan awoke at the unsettling noise and started crying.

"Just checking up on you." Vegeta walked across the soft grass. "Is that so wrong?"

"You want something. What is it?" He bounced Pan up and down against his chest. "Or did you get bored using Goku as your boy toy and decided to bother me now?"

Vegeta's eyebrow twitched. "Don't get it twisted. I love Kakarot."

The frown on Piccolo's face softened. But Vegeta knew the alien was still wary of getting too chummy with the Prince. "Why are you here?"

"I want to spend some time with you."

Piccolo scoffed. "Why should I be around you when I don't have to?"

"Listen. I really came to ask…" Vegeta pinched the bridge of his nose. "Would you like to start sparring with me?" Piccolo's strong gaze was hard to read. Vegeta averted his eyes and kicked a tiny pebble in the grass. "Kakarot will be on a journey until next summer. I don't use the Gravity Room anymore. So I need a partner."

Piccolo's mouth warped into a strange shape Vegeta couldn't interpret. Is he thinking about it? Piccolo stared up into the sky. "Why…should I?" he said slowly.

"Oh come on." Vegeta suppressed the urge to point out Piccolo would benefit the most if they sparred together. But the alien would demand he leave if he said that. "You enjoy fighting as much as I do. It'd be fun."

"Fun? With you?" Piccolo blinked. "This isn't some trick to kill me, is it?"

"Heh. You don't know me well, do you?"

Piccolo looked down at Pan. "I can't do it now. Not with the kid."

A shit-eating grin crossed Vegeta's face. "Not that this helps free up time for sparring. But I'd be happy to babysit her sometimes."

Piccolo flew backwards in the chair. "What? Are you insane! Gohan and Videl will kill me if I give you their baby!"

"Unlike you," Vegeta spat, "I've actually had a child. At least let me help her stop crying. You're holding her all wrong."

A purple blush spread across Piccolo's face. Hesitant, he handed Pan off into Vegeta's open arms. Vegeta cradled her, making sure to keep her head elevated. Pan opened her eyes wide to stare up into Vegeta's face. Her crying faded into a soft coo.

"Oh, so she likes you all of a sudden?" Piccolo said.

"Heh." Vegeta tapped her small nose. "Very cute."

"That's nice. But I still can't let you take her without Gohan or Videl's permission."

"Fine. Then let's go somewhere together."

"What?" Piccolo curled his lip into a sneer. "Like where?"

"I don't care. How about a walk? A ritzy neighborhood like this has be interesting, right?" Vegeta asked.

Piccolo got up out of the chair. "You lead the way."

While the premises were sprawling, it was a short walk down the path leading to the main street outside the mansion. Vegeta expected the surrounding neighborhood to be fancy—but he didn't anticipate all of the paparazzi and tourists. A large tour bus careened around the street corner and skidded to a stop in front of them.

The tour guide stood up on the top deck of the bus and screamed into his microphone. "To our right you can see the home of the noble, powerful, and magnanimous Mr. Satan!"

"OooOOOh!" All of the tourists held up cameras and phones to take pictures.

"Wow! Ladies and gentlemen, two people just left his mansion now! It looks like…Eh?" The tour guide scratched his head. "A short man wearing a strange wig…his baby…and his green husband?"

"Husband?!" Vegeta and Piccolo screeched simultaneously.

"It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen!" screeched one woman. "I love seeing two very different people in love!"

"Maybe Mr. Satan's shooting a movie in there!" yelled another tourist. "Hold up the baby so I can take a better picture!"

Vegeta extended his middle finger and wagged it in the air. "Take a picture of this!"

"He's so feisty," one of the tourists said. "And kind of cute holding that baby…"

"Let's leave." Piccolo grabbed Vegeta's shoulder and pulled him farther down the sidewalk.

The rest of their walk was much less eventful. They stuck to traversing the side streets to avoid the main drag where belligerent tourists milled about.

Vegeta wasn't used to spending time around someone who only spoke when necessary. Goku, Marron, and 18 couldn't stop talking even if they tried. In a way, Piccolo's cool demeanor was a breath of fresh air.

"So. Goku. Why him?"

Vegeta plucked one of his locks of hair out of Pan's death grip. "You're interested in that?"

"After his wife's death, I don't understand why he'd choose to be with someone else. Especially you. And you both have your own families. Why complicate things?"

Vegeta abhorred explaining his actions to others under their scrutiny. It was a bit demoralizing, like apologizing to your enemies. But it was important for Piccolo to hear his side of things. "It's hard to explain it to someone who doesn't understand romantic relationships."

Piccolo smiled. "Like you're an expert."

"Ha-ha." He looked down at Pan's smiling face. She looks so much like Kakarot, it's scary. He exhaled."It was inevitable. Kakarot and I are different from each other, but at the same time alike."

"Because you're both Saiyans."

"That's part of it. Even when I wanted to kill him the first time I met him, I felt a strong magnetism between us." Vegeta blushed. "It wasn't until after his wife was gone and I lost…intimacy with my own partner that I understood what that feeling we shared meant."

The blush blooming across Piccolo's stoic face amused Vegeta. Piccolo coughed. "So you didn't push Goku into being with you?"

"He wishes. Kakarot wanted me bad. And I didn't give in easily."

"Too much info, Vegeta."

Vegeta continued, ignoring Piccolo's discomfort. "We're happier together than apart. It's as simple as that." He paused. "And Kakarot is fucking amazing in bed."

Piccolo leaned over to cover Pan's ears. "The baby, Vegeta!"

"Don't be melodramatic. She doesn't understand a word I'm saying."

Pan reached her arms into the air. "Kaka!" she squealed.

"See?" Piccolo growled, "The girl's like a sponge."

"She's just learning her grandpa's real name! Aren't you, sweetie?" Vegeta nuzzled his nose against Pan's.

Piccolo cast him a strange glance. "Gohan and Videl will be home soon. Let's head back."

The return trip to Mr. Satan's house included far fewer annoyances. Two women on the street asked to take a picture with them, but Piccolo scared them away with a nasty bark. Once back on Mr. Satan's property they walked through the hidden gate leading to the backyard. Vegeta heard Videl's screaming before he saw her. "Piccolo! Where are you?!"

"We just went on a short walk." Piccolo strode up to her and Gohan. Gohan looked relieved, but a deep set frown was still on Videl's face.

"Where's—" She glanced past Piccolo at Vegeta. "Oh."

It was painful watching Videl struggle to give a reason why she wanted Pan out of his hands immediately. "We were just spending some time together," he offered in her silence. He motioned to hand Pan back to her mother. The baby cried out and clung to his shirt.

"Aw, it's okay Pan." Videl rubbed Pan's cheek.

"I can help." Vegeta lifted her into the air. "Pan likes to fly, doesn't she? Yes you do!" Pan erupted into giggles.

The color drained from Gohan's face. "Wow. I didn't know you liked kids so much, Vegeta."

"I don't." Vegeta's normal demeanor returned to him. He handed Pan off to Videl.

Videl stared up at Vegeta for a few seconds longer than he liked. She smiled. "Do you want to have dinner with us? Piccolo's coming to."

"I am?" Piccolo asked.

Vegeta shrugged. "Sure."

"Good thing you're over here." Gohan walked beside Vegeta on the long path back inside the mansion. "I don't know anything about all the trouble Dad's gotten himself into…"

The humid summer heat forced Vegeta to prop his window open before bed. When he felt his eyes droop close, he was grateful he could drift off to sleep at all.

Hours later, a ghostly whisper tickled his ear. "Vegeta."

Still asleep, he pulled his bedsheets over his head. He was in the middle of a delicious dream. Goku was a handsome blue collar worker at a construction site. In his fantasy Vegeta was a lonely jogger passing by, admiring the way Goku's muscles flexed in the harsh sun. He looked great sweating and panting everywhere, lifting heavy metal beams over his shoulder with superhuman ease.

Vegeta had caught his attention, too. Currently Goku was taking a long water break so he could admire Vegeta out the corner of his eye. He took long, deep gulps from his canteen. His adam's apple bobbed up and down. Vegeta stood just a few feet away, smiling innocently. Mmm...

"Wake up, Vegeta."

"No, I'm not from around here," he mumbled into his pillow. "My name? Tell me yours first…"

"Dammit, Vegeta. I don't want to have to slap you awake."

"No, I don't have a boyfriend. Why do you ask…"

SMACK! Vegeta jumped up in bed, wide awake. The room was pitch dark. A strong gust of wind billowed through the open window, rippling the curtains. An enormous specter sat on the edge of the bed beside him.

Vegeta rubbed his eyes. "Father?" he asked, groggy.

King Vegeta nodded. "It sure takes a lot to get you awake. What the hell were you going on about?"

"I was dreaming. You know, the thing you're supposed to do when sleeping." He rubbed the throbbing pain on the side of his head. So he hadn't imagined his father's ghost all those weeks ago. "What do you want?"

"I didn't come to berate you, my son." King Vegeta tilted his head. "That's a lie. I will a little bit. But I noticed you've broken three of the curses I put on you."

Vegeta yawned. "Right. My hair. Very cute."

"Don't be glib. My curses were the best thing to ever happen to you." King Vegeta crossed his legs. His massive hair and cape wafted in the wind. "I've been watching you. You're doing well with the mating process, even though you had to be dragged into it. You nearly screwed it all up that time you scared Kakarot with your childish antics."

Vegeta slumped back into his pillow. He'd forgotten how much he hated being talked down to by an elder. "Everything's fine now."

"Oh is it?" King Vegeta tsked. He pulled a sketchbook from behind his back. "What are you doing with things like this? This isn't how you should spend your time."

Vegeta snatched the book from his father's hand. "I enjoy it. And it'll make Kakarot happy. So kindly fuck off, Daddy."

"You think you know everything, but you don't!" King Vegeta flicked his middle finger against Vegeta's forehead. "You haven't even planned for your children!"

"Trunks? What about him?"

"I'm not talking about him, imbecile. You and Kakarot's future children. When do I get my next heir?"

"Gods." A dull pain erupted in Vegeta's skull. His body was too susceptible to this kind of stress. Why couldn't he have a cool ghostly mentor like Obi Wan or…Mufasa. "You already have an heir. And I'm not having any more children."

"Sure, there's nothing wrong with Trunks. But he's a half-blood."

"Father, don't be foul. Your ideals are outdated on this planet."

"It's true! Only a full-blooded Saiyan deserves the proper title of prince or princess. And with you and Kakarot still around, there's no reason not to get the show on the road and get you knocked up already!"

Vegeta rubbed his temples. "No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes. Absolutely!" King Vegeta grinned. "Kakarot will make your children look cute, don't you think?"

"Why would I have more than one!" Vegeta grabbed his pillow and chucked it at his father. It passed straight through him and landed on the floor. "And a Saiyan prince has never been pregnant. Do you know how humiliating that would be? How fat I would get?"

"Going by all the sweets you've been eating lately, I'm surprised you aren't the size of a blimp yet!"

"Oh, fuck you!"

"You've always been too vain!"

"Nu-uh!"

"Yes you are!"

Vegeta sighed. "This is going nowhere."

King Vegeta patted Vegeta's stomach. "Your first son will be named Vegeta, of course—"

"Just stop already. I'm happy just having Kakarot around." His father gave him an exasperated look. Vegeta rolled his eyes. "Fine. I'll think about it. But it's not happening anytime soon. Probably never."

"Finally!" King Vegeta clapped his hands together. "In the meantime, you have another problem you must tackle."

Vegeta raised a brow. "Yes?"

"You need to tell Kakarot what will happen once you become mates." He stroked his moustache. "He should know he's not going to be nice during the first day."

Vegeta covered his face. He knew that after two Saiyans officially became mates, they were supposed to attempt pregnancy the first day after their union. With Goku as the dominant one, the flush of hormones that'll overtake both their bodies will favor him. Vegeta will be his personal skewer for a whole day. He had no intention of getting pregnant, so the day will have to be for laughs on his end.

If Goku kept him alive long enough. As much as he hated to admit it, his father had a point. He'll probably have to fight Goku just to prevent himself from being screwed straight into oblivion. The third-class should get a heads-up. "Fine. I'll talk to him about it eventually."

"Eventually? Don't put this off. He at least knows about the tattoos you will give each other, right?"

Vegeta grumbled. "No. He's…terrified of needles. So I haven't brought it up yet."

King Vegeta glared at him. "That's ridiculous. You're lying. Either way, getting a tattoo will be nothing compared to how hard you've taken him in bed."

"FATHER!" Defensively, Vegeta pulled his covers over his exposed chest. "How much have you seen?"

"Don't be dense. I can see everything that happens to you!"

"Ugh!"

"Get over yourself." King Vegeta stood up. "I've said enough for now. I expect you to break the last two remaining curses in due time."

"Or you could just remove them from me now!"

His father smiled down at him. "Where's the fun in that?"

"Wait." Vegeta looked up. "Don't watch us have sex anymore. Please. I know it doesn't bother you, but it's creepy."

"…Fine. I'll see you again soon." He faded away into thin air.

"Shit." Vegeta covered himself beneath the sheets again. Nothing was more humiliating than having your own father lecture you about sex.

Summer came and went faster than Vegeta anticipated. Goku's absence opened a great, yawning chasm in his daily routine. The possibilities of how he could best spend his time were endless. As much as he missed the spiky-haired fool, it was exciting to do something different every day.

He buried his father's visit in the back of his mind. Why did that crotchety old man come back from the dead just to lecture him about mating? With all his spying, surely he understood his son's feelings for Goku extended beyond ritual meant to ensure future royal progeny. King Vegeta had never been madly in love.

Oh gods, is that how I'm going to think of it now? That I've gone mad?

To flush his mind of negative thoughts he spent every morning in Marron's studio. She taught him art history of the world, and he absorbed it all like a sponge. He enjoyed learning the way historical events shaped art movements. He hoped he could be the same— that somehow he could make art bred from his own life experiences.

His lack of patience was the worst part of his new life. Little he made in the studio came out looking the way he intended. In many ways it reminded him of the years he whiled away training to surpass Goku in strength. Dissatisfaction with his art-making was an impenetrable wall that pissed him off the more he hit it.

Sure, he enjoyed painting and drawing. He even enjoyed sculpting. But with all of his talent, he couldn't make anything he admired. Rending things exactly as they existed in reality bored him.

One hot August afternoon, he sat in the backyard doodling beside Marron. She peered over his shoulder to look at his drawing. Instead of showering him with praise like usual, she asked him a strange question. "Do you like comics, Uncle Vegeta?"

Part of him wanted to go on the defensive. He thought comics were supposed to be for children. But he had no reason to feel shame around Marron. "I don't think I've ever read one."

The next morning, Marron knocked on his door. When he answered, Marron stared back at him cheerfully. "Instead of going to the studio, you should read these." She shoved a cardboard box in his hands. It was heavier than it looked.

Cautiously, he pulled open the top flap on the box. Inside were dozens of comics, many in different sizes and languages.

"They're Dad's," she said. "Don't tell him I took them!"

He spent the read of the day reading.

Weeks later, Vegeta found himself pressing his face against the living room window. "What the hell is happening to the trees outside?"

18, busy coating Vegeta's nails with another coat of clear polish, shot him a curious look. "The leaves are changing."

"Changing?"

She rolled her eyes. "It's fall. All of the trees change color then shed by winter. Don't tell me you didn't know that."

"Of course I know what fall is," Vegeta spat. "I've just never…seen it happen."

"We get seasons in this neck of the woods. Everything will be dead by winter. Isn't that exciting?" She smiled. "I love being cold. It makes you appreciate the heat more."

Vegeta continued to mush his face against the cold glass.

18 put down his hand. "Fall and winter are the best times of year for snuggling up with someone."

He closed his eyes. So there are two whole seasons for lonely people?

Vegeta paced around his room. It was the first week of September. Marron, Goten, and Trunks had returned to school. Krillin's house was much quieter than before.

An idle mind is the Devil's playground, he thought. If that was true, it was the perfect explanation for why he'd jacked off more times than he could count in the past week.

He put on his leather jacket. His moleskin was still in his breast pocket stuck to an old pack of cigarettes. "I'll go on a walk instead."

"What kind of comics are you interested in, Sir?"

It was a cool afternoon in late September. Vegeta stood at the counter of a local comic book shop. He tapped his finger against the glass display case. The pimply man attending to him shuttered every time Vegeta's fingernail made impact. "I want something good," Vegeta said.

"Okay. What do you like?"

"You know." Vegeta waved his hand in the air in dismissal. "Something that looks nice. And has an interesting story."

The pock-marked employee grinned. He pushed his glasses up his nose. "I think I know what you want." A wicked smile crossed his face. "Follow me."

Vegeta tailed him into a small room in the back of the shop. An acrid smell lingered in the air around them. The man struggled to bend down in front of a shelf; slowly he pulled a long, white box out from the very bottom. "Check these out." He lifted the lid off the box. He pulled a plastic-protected comic from the collection and handed it to Vegeta.

The Prince picked up the comic and held it between his fingers like it would burst into flame at any second. He squinted at the cover. "What is this?"

"Hentai. Specifically, volume one of Super Star Fuckers Supreme."

"Hen…tai?" Vegeta lifted the flap of the plastic protective cover, then pulled the comic out. He flipped through it, frowning. "This is straight up porn."

"Yup. Pretty good, right?"

He shoved it back into the man's hand. "I don't want this."

"Oh. So you like the other thing." He pushed the giant box back onto the shelf. A soft grunt escaped him. He reached for the second shelf from the bottom, and opened the box there. "Look at this one!" He passed a comic up to Vegeta.

Vegeta repeated the process as before, and flipped through the comic's pages. "What this hell? This is just men touching and having sex with each other."

"Yeah, it's yaoi."

Vegeta's scowl deepened. "What makes you think I want to read this? Do you think I'm some kind of pervert?"

"Whoa, dude." The man held his hands up in the air in defense. "I don't judge what comics you like. I just sell 'em. There's nothing wrong with liking a little man-on-man love."

Vegeta blushed. He flipped through the comic again. "Well the drawings are nice. But that doesn't mean I enjoy looking at this kind of thing!"

"Of course not."

"I don't just sit around and read filth all day!"

"Sure, Sir."

"I'll take the whole box." Vegeta returned the comic to its plastic case. "And don't get happy just yet. I plan on buying a lot more comics. Show me what you have that doesn't have sex in it."

The comic book store employee grinned.

One chilly night in October, Vegeta's phone buzzed. He answered. "Hello?"

"Yo, Vegeta," Yamcha said over the line. "Are you busy tonight?"

"No."

"Do you want to come over?"

"It's past midnight."

"So…?"

"No."

"Alrighty then." Yamcha hung up.

Later in October, Krillin came in from outside and interrupted breakfast with an announcement. "Hey, Goku sent us some mail!"

Loud, ringing alarm bells went off in Vegeta's brain. Kakarot! Did you send something for me? What is it? I have to know! "Oh, did he?" he said softly, feigning disinterest.

Across the dining room table, Android 18 smiled. She snatched the two parcels away from Krillin. "Looks like there's one for all of us, and a special one all for Vegeta. Way to show your favoritism, Goku."

Vegeta allowed himself a small smile. "Really?"

"Uh-huh." She placed Vegeta's package on the tablecloth next to her plate. "Let's open the family one first!"

Beads of sweat dripped down his forehead. I suppose I can wait a little bit longer…

Once 18 tore the box open, Krillin and Marron dug into its contents like savage animals. Newspaper print covered in foreign lettering flew everywhere. "Aaah, there's chocolate!" Marron yelled.

"And lots of tea," Krillin added. He hauled a large aluminum tin container out of the box.

"Oooh," 18 cooed. She pulled out a canary-colored cap made of goose down. "This is gorgeous."

"I found a note at the bottom!" Marron said. She cleared her throat and read aloud the scrawl on the slip of paper. "Hey Guys—I miss you all. Please enjoy the box of goodies. Some are gifts from Boris and Anya. They say hello! Love, Goku."

"A man of few words," Krillin laughed. "Wow, check out these rad mittens!" He pulled a pair out of the box and twirled them around in his hands. "There's an engraving inside of them that says they're made of deerskin."

Marron unwrapped the foil from one of the giant balls of milk chocolate in the box. "Uncle Vegeta, open yours. I want to know what he sent you!" She stuffed the whole thing in her mouth and squeezed her eyes shut in joy.

FINALLY! Vegeta snatched his box up from the table. Carefully he untied the leather string wrapped around it. The heavy butcher paper wrapping unfolded to reveal a simple box. He opened it. "Oh, wow," he coughed, blushing.

"What is it?" Krillin asked.

"It's…nothing."

"Nothing at all? Liar!" 18 leaned across the table to steal a peek inside the box. "What did he send you?"

Vegeta pulled his gift to his chest, ear tips burning in embarrassment. "It's none of your business!"

"It's probably something romantic. Am I right?" Marron asked. She had that familiar glimmer in her eye. "Is there a love letter in there?"

"I'm going to my room," Vegeta announced. "I'll see you in your studio later, Marron." He stood up from the table and raced upstairs. Behind him 18 and Krillin snickered. Once inside the safety of his room he flew onto the bed and investigated the box's contents more closely.

Goku hadn't been a man of few words at all. At the very top inside the box sat a long letter spanning several pages. Goku's handwriting was large and bold. Vegeta could probably read the damn thing from ten feet away. He curled into the warmth of his bed and read silently to himself:

"Dearest Vegeta—

This is the first letter I've written in my life. Lucky me, I get to write it to you!

I was careful choosing what to send you. Under this letter are chocolates. Don't give them to anyone else! I was told by a man the chocolate is an aphrodisiac. As soon as I found out what that meant, I knew I had to get them for you."

Vegeta glanced inside the box again. Seven large aluminum foil wrapped balls of chocolate sat nestled together in a circle. He was unsure if Goku was trying to be cute by arranging them like dragon balls. They appeared similar to the chocolates Marron ate earlier, but instead the wrapping was a brilliant green color. Or does it look red to Kakarot?

He ran his finger across the pieces of chocolate. Was this Goku's idea of a joke? He continued to read the letter:

"Don't eat more than one at a time. I made that mistake. Make sure you're alone when you do it!"

Without a second thought, Vegeta unwrapped one of the chocolates and popped the whole thing in his mouth. The hard shell broke easily between his teeth. Soft, creamy milk chocolate oozed across his tongue. Automatically his hand moved to grab another chocolate. Halfway through opening it he mentally chided himself. I'm such a fucking pig when it comes to sweets. But there's no use wasting perfectly good candy. He stuffed the second chocolate into his mouth. The taste made him so happy, he hummed a cheerful tune under his breath. He flipped to the next page of the letter:

"I love you so much. Every night before I go to sleep, I tell you I love you. I know you can't hear me. But I pretend you can. Will you promise to do the same for me?"

Vegeta grunted. Had Goku always been this romantic, or did Vegeta bring it out of him? He read on:

"I'm going to call you sometime in the spring. I miss the sound of your voice. I think a lot about how different sound, touch, taste, smell and sight are. I remember what your skin feels and tastes like. I could never forget your scent. Of course I remember what you look like. But I spend so much time underground I only hear the same sounds over and over again. It's hard remembering your voice in the noise. This is why I must speak to you again."

Thank goodness Vegeta didn't read any of the letter downstairs in front of everyone. Under their scrutiny, he'd have to hide the pure joy on his face.

"I think about you all the time. When I'm lucky I get to go above ground. I see so many things that remind me of you. I take pictures of all of them with Anya's old cameras. Below the chocolates are some of the photos I took. I wrote notes on the back of each one. I hope you like them.

This is the end of my letter. I love you! I wish I had enough paper to write it a thousand times. I will write it until I reach the end of the page. I love you. I love you. I love you, Vegeta!"

"Wow, he really went all out," Vegeta mumbled. The end of Goku's letter made his cheeks burn. He dug his hand into the box and retrieved a stack of polaroids. On top was a blurry photo of an icy mountain peak. The back of the photo read: "Doesn't this mountain look like your hair?"

Vegeta shook his head in shame. The goddamn mountain did look like the outline of his hair. He shuffled the stack of photographs, paying close attention to Goku's strange commentary for each one. On the back of one photo of an angry cat stuck in the snow, Goku went into detail about how much it reminded him of Vegeta when frustrated. There were several silly animal pictures that Goku claimed all reminded him of Vegeta.

But toward the bottom of the stack the tone of the photos changed. Ominous pictures of snow-covered castles, abandoned broken statues, and blinding white skies became more common. On the backs of each of them, Goku wrote about how lonely these things made him feel.

Vegeta felt guilty. Until he reached the last photo in the stack.

He dropped it on the bed, then covered his mouth. "Kakarot, you didn't!" Too shy to look at the picture again, he flipped it over to read the back: "I know you like seeing me like this. I had fun taking this picture. Don't show it to anyone else!"

Vegeta hadn't noticed the raging hard-on in his pants until now. It poked up in his loose, cotton pants like an angry mast. Fingers shaking, he flipped the photo over again. It was a tad blurry and shot at an awkward angle, but clear enough for Vegeta to tell what was happening. Goku was sitting on a bed in his Super Saiyan form. He was winking and smiling up at the camera, completely nude. In his free hand he gripped his giant cock.

Oh man. Was he really going to do this? Tap into his inner fifteen-year-old boy and jerk off to a photo? Where did Goku even take this picture?

It wasn't like anyone was around to judge him. This was what Goku wanted him to do, right? Throwing all caution to the wind, he pulled his pants down to his knees. "Mm…" When his fingers made contact with the tip of his head, he moaned loudly. A million nerve endings ignited at once. Goddamn chocolate.

"Hey!" Marron shouted outside his door. "Are you all set to head to the studio today?"

Fuck! "I'll be ready in a few minutes."

"Okay. I'll just wait outside the door." He heard her plop down on the carpet outside.

Goddammit! He looked down at his poor, throbbing dick. Sighing, he picked up the lewd photo of Goku and waddled his horny ass to the bathroom to take care of his problem.

One night around nine o'clock, Vegeta crept downstairs toward the kitchen. If he was stealthy, he could heat up a cup of hot chocolate without anyone noticing his presence. Even though it was only mid-October, the cold was nippy enough to draw him out of his room to procure hot drinks.

A small figure wearing a red hooded jacket opened the front door. Vegeta leaned over the stair railing to get a closer look. "Marron?"

She jumped two feet in the air. "Oh!"

He'd never seen her leave the house at night before. Around this time she was usually in her studio. "Where are you going?" he asked.

"I'm meeting up with a friend." Her voice was shaky and uneven.

Vegeta tilted his head. "Who?"

"This girl I know…" She trailed off as if she intended to add a qualifier to the statement. But she kept her mouth shut.

"You never told me about her."

Marron blushed. "It never came up!"

Oh, he thought. "Okay. Have fun."

"Can you not tell Mom and Dad about this?"

"I won't."

By early November, Marron was amazed by Vegeta's progress.

Wide-eyed, she spun around in a circle in her studio. The Prince's bright paintings and lustrous illustrations covered every surface. Vegeta's favorite radio station played on her boom box. She didn't like hip hop music as much as he did. But having a constant, rhythmic beat as background noise while working was preferable to her usual silence. The music lifted her spirits as she continued to spin.

To her delight, she saw familiar images in all of Vegeta's art.

She spotted a tiny, but detailed oil painting of her father being gored by a horned, white lizard man. Toward the back of her studio she saw a giant canvas pinned to the wall depicting an elaborate painted comic. She recognized Yamcha, Tien, Chiaotzu, and her father fighting small green alien men in all of the panels.

Goku appeared in a lot of Vegeta's work, too. Marron was surprised Vegeta trusted her to see some of the ways he'd represented his lover. None of the pictures were distasteful, but many were sexual in the way Earth's savior was depicted. On each surface Goku appeared on, he spoke something unintelligible in a drawn speech bubble.

She knew Vegeta's trust in her was contingent on her never asking about those pieces of art. "Vegeta, these are all so beautiful!"

He lay on his stomach on the floor. Beneath him was a large sheet of stock paper. Using a blunt piece of charcoal, he finished off a sketch of Majin Buu. "Thank you."

She stopped on her heel. Her dress continued to spin around her hips. "I can't read any of the text in the speech bubbles. Did you use a different language?"

"Yes."

"Which one?"

"It's what we spoke on Planet Vegeta."

"Did you make that decision because you don't want anyone understanding what you wrote?"

He dropped his charcoal. "…Yes."

"Why aren't you in anything you paint or draw?"

"I don't enjoy spending hours staring at myself."

Marron sat down cross-legged on the floor. She watched in awe as he continued to draw.

Vegeta hated zombie movies. Having been brought back to life himself, the films were incredibly droll in comparison to the real thing.

Marron and Krillin loved watching them. Even though Halloween was over, they insisted on watching some movie about a zombie virus overtaking the whole planet. Only a few human survivors were left to fend for themselves. He swore he'd seen the movie before.

During one scene in the film a man buried a grave for his recently-infected friend he murdered. "That's so creepy," Marron said. She shivered under her blanket on the couch.

Vegeta stared blankly at the television screen. "Kakarot dug me a grave once."

Vegeta heard him land before he spoke. "What the hell, Vegeta."

Slowly, Vegeta looked up from the comic book in his lap. On his bedroom windowsill sat Piccolo. Snowflakes floated down from the sky and landed on his shoulder pads in tiny mounds.

The Prince smiled. "To what do I owe this visit?"

"You said we'd spar. Then you never followed up."

Vegeta observed the white, snowy world outside. "You want to fight now?"

"Yes," Piccolo said.

Vegeta put his book down. "Excellent. Let's go."

The cold of winter didn't bode well for Vegeta's body.

One December morning in Marron's studio, he sneezed. He was in the middle of drawing a comic in his sketchbook, and the moisture stained the paper. "What the fuck?"

"Bless you!" Marron said. She didn't lift her head from the tiny sculpture she was absorbed in finishing.

"Did I just sneeze?"

Marron quirked her brow. "Uh, yeah."

"I haven't done that since I was a child."

Marron laughed. "I don't believe that."

Vegeta was right to be concerned. By noon he couldn't stop himself from sneezing. An itch he couldn't scratch settled in his throat, which only gave him reprieve from his sneezing with a barrage of coughs. When he dragged himself across the patio inside for lunch, Android 18 gave him a disgusted look. "You're sick."

"I'm not." He wiped his nose on his sweater sleeve. "I've never been sick a day in my life." He left out how he'd been sick dozens of times from drug use and fraternizing with suspect alien species in the backwaters of the universe. He figured his time as a punk in his youth didn't count.

"You've already got one foot in the grave. Come here." She pressed her pale palm against his forehead. "You're burning up. You have a fever."

"I don't," he insisted. "In fact, it's freezing in here!" He doubled over and coughed.

"Gross. Go to bed or you're going to spread it!" Using only her fingertips, she pushed him toward the stairs.

The journey from the foot of the stairs to his bed was long and arduous. How could he have felt moderately okay when he woke up, then like absolute shit only hours later? The idea of losing control over his health frightened him.

After toeing his boots off, he crawled under his duvet. His skin was infinitely sensitive: the slide of the sheets against his skin felt like small pinpricks.

All the coughing and sneezing barred him from the relief of sleep. Instead, he slipped into a half-awake state of constant irritation.

"Vegeta?" His door opened. 18 walked in carrying a large tray. "How're ya?"

"Nnng."

She smiled. "You're cute when incapacitated." She sat down next to him on the bed. "I have some food here for you."

"Not hungry," he muttered into his pillow.

"That doesn't matter. Eat this soup."

Vegeta shimmied down further under the sheets. "Bite me."

"Vegeta, stop being an asshole. Eat this!"

He slid his hand out from beneath the covers. Slowly, he curled all his fingers into his fist. Except for his middle one.

"You're impossible," she groaned. Outside of the sweet safety of his bed, he heard her slam the tray down on his night table. "There's cold medicine here, too. It'll knock you right out. You should at least try to get some rest." She walked out of the room and slammed the door shut.

He listened to her footsteps in the hall fade away. What's her fucking problem? he thought. Quickly, he extended his claw out to grab the bottle of medicine beside the soup bowl. "Take one capful every four hours," he read on the back instructions. With one hand he popped the top off and chugged down half the liquid inside the bottle.

The itch in his throat softened. And the horrible sneezes from earlier were gone! Finally, he didn't feel sick anymore. No, he felt better than that…he felt really good. So good that he felt a curious warmth spread through all his limbs, easing away the frigid cold. Sleep overtook him.

A fever dream plagued his slumber. When he felt familiar arms cradle him, he woke up. "Vegeta, are you okay?"

His eyes were too heavy to lift all the way open. "Kaka?" he said. His tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth.

"Mmhm," Goku said. "How'd you get so sick?"

Vegeta mumbled something incoherent. Goku laughed. "Were you supposed to eat the food left in your room? It was cold."

Drunk on medicine, he mumbled some nonsense. Although his arms moved like dead weight in water, he managed to lift a hand up to touch Goku's face.

"I hope you're not mad at me for seeing you again," Goku said.

Vegeta raised his brows. Goku was blurry in his vision. "Can't be mad," he muttered. "Love you."

Goku pressed his nose against Vegeta's. "You're covered in sweat. Let me clean you up!" He lifted Vegeta out of bed. His large, warm hands peeled off the smaller Saiyan's sweater and pants. Vegeta didn't recognize the bed he was on. Why were the sheets a different color? An eternity later, he felt himself become submerged in a tub of water.

There was no tub in his guest bathroom. So where could he possibly be?

"I'm going to wash your clothes. I'll be back in a minute," Goku said.

The bathwater was tepid and nice. Vegeta sunk lower in the water…so low that his mouth and nose submerged, and his head tipped forward. I'm so sleepy…

"VEGETA!" Goku tugged on his hair and lifted him back up above surface. "You almost drowned!"

Vegeta coughed up a mouthful of water. "Thanks," he slurred.

"Are you on drugs or something?"

"Yes."

Goku's displeasure at the new information was written all over his face. But he didn't say another word about it. "You can relax now. I'll take care of you."

Warm water and warm hands cleansed the film of sweat from Vegeta's body. Gentle fingers massaged his scalp. He closed his eyes to focus on every tender sensation. Over time, Goku burst into a quiet fit of giggles that slowly rose in volume.

"Why are you…?" Vegeta trailed off. He said enough for Goku to understand.

"It's just funny," Goku said. "The first time I gave you a bath, I really scared you. But this time you're enjoying yourself. It makes me happy."

The sugar-sweet taste of the medicine Vegeta downed earlier still lingered in his mouth. When he spoke again, it was hard to move his sticky tongue around. "I think," he said slowly, making sure every word was clear, "even then I was starting to fall for you."

"You don't have to say that for my sake, 'Geta."

Vegeta opened his eyes. He slid his head backwards in the tub. Even while looking at him upside-down, Goku was blurry. "I think I always loved you. In some way."

Goku didn't respond for a long time. He pulled Vegeta out of the tub and wrapped him in a thin towel. "Let's get you back to bed, Veggie!" Goku's voice was cracking. Why? Did I say something to upset him?

Goku dressed him in the sweater and pants he wore earlier. The soapy smell of the freshly washed clothes comforted him. Once in bed, he rolled over to fall back to sleep. Goku tugged on his shoulder.

"Nu-uh. You gotta eat first." Goku rustled around on the night table beside the bed. "I could feel you getting sick, you know. I can sense when people are about to die, so I guess what I felt for you isn't too different from that."

Vegeta stretched his arms and legs out across the bed. "Will you sleep with me?"

"I don't think you'd like that once you woke up feeling better later. Now open up!"

Obedient, Vegeta opened his mouth and allowed Goku to spoon-feed him the broth. The flavor danced on his tongue. "This is soup?"

"Yep." In his foggy haze, he could see Goku smiling. "Boris said it can cure any cold. He made you some."

"I miss you." Vegeta said. He gulped down another spoonful of soup. The lingering flavor of potatoes and carrots ignited his taste buds. The good food and heavy medicine loosened his tongue. "I think about you all the time too."

Goku nuzzled his head against Vegeta's. "I'm glad you feel the same way as me."

"You took a good picture."

Goku angled his head away from him. "Huh?"

"In your package," Vegeta breathed out. "That last photo of you on the bed. It was a nice picture."

Goku laughed. "Oh, Vegeta! That was a joke. I thought it'd make you laugh."

"I jerked off to it twice."

Goku's eyes widened. "Wow. Really?" Goku blushed while feeding Vegeta more soup. "Huh."

The seductive call of sleep tugged Vegeta in and out of the world of the conscious. In a desperate attempt to keep hold of reality, he touched Goku's face. "Kakarot, don't leave."

"I don't think you'd say that if you were healthy," Goku said, laughing.

Vegeta closed his eyes. Goku left a trail of kisses all over his warm face. His head lolled over onto the pillow. He fell asleep.

The next morning, he awoke in darkness. His fever was gone, along with the soreness in his throat. Blindly, he roamed his hand around his bed. No Goku. He sniffed the air. Goku's scent wasn't there either. On his night table sat the same uneaten bowl of soup Android 18 left him, along with the bottle of medicine.

In the middle of a silent night in December, a man knocked on Krillin's front door. No one else was home. Vegeta answered, suspicious as to why a stranger would bother them so late. "What is it?" he asked.

"Do you know who Son Goku is?" The man asked. Black hair cascaded down his shoulders. His long bangs hid his eyes. He wore a bulking gray parka and earmuffs too big for his head. Vegeta looked down and saw a dirty, red bloodstain on his chest.

"Of course I know him. He's my husband," Vegeta said. The words came from his mouth with the same urgency as oozing molasses. When the man stared back at him with unmoving lips, he grabbed the lapels of his jacket. "What? Did something happen to him?"

"He died in an accident. Buried underneath a mile of rubble."

Vegeta let go of him. "Oh."

"You have my condolences." The man nodded, and walked backwards off the doorstep. He disappeared into the snowy night.

Vegeta gasped. He awoke with a jolt. Sweat covered his face. Hail knocked against his bedroom window.

If Goku died, would he even know? Occasionally, if he tried hard enough, he could sense a glimmer of Goku's energy somewhere far away on the opposite side of the planet. But unlike his friends, Goku usually kept his ki well hidden. Especially during the past few months.

He shut his eyes, praying he wouldn't dream again for the rest of the night. "Kakarot, can you hear me?" he murmured. "I love you too."

"Look, everyone! I made cookies for the New Year!" Marron carried a huge, steaming baking sheet into the living room. "I made all kinds, too! Sugar, chocolate, oatmeal…"

Android 18 held a finger in the air. "Marron, we're watching something important!" She and Vegeta sat on the edge of the couch with their eyes glued to the television.

Marron huffed. She set the tray down on the coffee table in front of them both. "At least try them."

18 and Vegeta blindly picked up several cookies from the tray and stuffed them into their mouths. "These are great," 18 said, still enraptured by the TV show.

"Hey, is that—?" Marron snapped her fingers, trying to spark her recollection. "The Announcer guy? From the Tenkaichi Budokai?"

"Yep! He's cute, right?" 18 winked at Marron over her shoulder.

"I heard that!" Krillin yelled from the kitchen.

Marron sat on the couch beside Vegeta. "What's he doing on TV?"

"He has a new talk show. All kinds of weirdos show up. Like this lady," 18 said.

On the television set, a young woman was sobbing. "My fetish rules my life. I think about him day and night. I think about him when I have sex with my husband. I even dream about him!"

Next to her sat the Announcer. Somberly, he pat her hand. "That's terrible!" he said at a half-yell.

Vegeta and 18 exchanged glances. They laughed at the same time. "He uses the same voice as for the tournament!" Vegeta said.

"I know I should be ashamed, but…" The woman stared into the camera. "I just can't stop my lust for King Piccolo! His death was the worst day of my life as a teenager!"

18 screamed. "This is golden! Krillin, you have to come in here and see this!"

Krillin rushed into the room. "This better not be some trashy talk show where the guests start beating each other up."

"It's better than that. Look." 18 pointed at the crying woman on stage. "She's in love with Piccolo!"

"Someone should tell him he has an admirer," Vegeta chuckled. He reclined back on the couch. He licked his lips. Huh. That's weird. He ran his tongue over his teeth and gums. "Marron, what kind of cookies did you make?"

"I said I made sugar, chocolate, oatmeal, and peanut butter cookies!"

Vegeta covered his mouth. "Peanut butter?"

On TV, the Announcer smiled. "Ma'am, this show's going to do you a favor. We're going to find Piccolo and bring him to this studio so you two can meet!"

Krillin doubled over. "No way!"

While everyone burst into laughter, Marron noticed Vegeta was unusually silent. She touched his shoulder. "Hey, what's wrong? Why are you asleep…?" She jumped back. "Mom. Dad."

The woman on TV gasped. "Piccolo's still alive?! Oh thank God!"

Krillin and 18 whooped and hollered. Krillin pounded his fist on the arm of the couch. Marron stood up. "Mom! Dad! Uncle Vegeta isn't moving!"

18 recovered faster than Krillin. She shook Vegeta violently. His chin drooped down to his chest.

"Oh, crap."

Halfway across the world miles underground, Goku jolted awake. He blinked in the pitch darkness. It took a few seconds for his mind to stop reeling and catch up with his emotions. "Boris," he spoke.

"Goku," Boris said groggily. In the tunnel the older man was curled inside a cot beside him. "Is something wrong?"

"I have to go. I think my boyfriend just…died or something." He pressed his fingers to his head.

"I didn't mean to kill him with my cooking!" Marron had rolled Vegeta onto his stomach on the floor. She cradled his head in her arms. "I swear I didn't mean it. I never knew I was that bad!"

Krillin stared down at his phone. "An ambulance is on the way here. But I can probably get him to an emergency room faster than—"

Goku appeared in the middle of the living room. Android 18 screeched and fell backwards on the couch. "What the hell, Goku!"

"What happened?!" Goku sped over to Vegeta's body, immediately pressing his hand on his back.

"Calm down. He's still breathing," 18 said.

Marron cried. "He passed out after he ate one of my cookies!"

Goku's dire expression lifted from his face. "Cookies?" He looked over at the tray sitting nearby. "Ooh. Do they have peanuts in them? He's allergic."

Krillin jumped in the air. "I've got an EpiPen!" He ran into the kitchen and flung open the junk drawer. Old receipts rained down to the floor as he flung them behind his shoulder. "Got it!" He ran back into the living room. "Stand back everyone!"

Goku fell backwards onto his butt. Krillin plunged the pen straight into Vegeta's right asscheek. Seconds later, Vegeta gasped deeply as if new life breathed into him.

"You're supposed to put it in his hip Krillin! His hip!" 18 yelled.

"FUCK!" Vegeta screamed and thrashed against the floor. His eyes fluttered, then shut again. "What the hell did you just do!"

"Heh. Sorry!" Krillin laughed nervously.

"You're alive!" Marron hugged his limp body.

Vegeta buried his face in the carpet. "Mother…fucking…cocksucker!"

"Poor Vegeta." Goku massaged Vegeta at the site of the injection. "You can barely keep yourself alive without me around." He smiled. "Don't tell me you keep getting hurt so I'll come back sooner!"

"Kakarot—wait!" Vegeta clawed in the air toward Goku. But by the time he got the two words out, Goku was gone.

18 rolled her eyes. "Are you serious? You almost died because of a cookie?"

"It's all my fault. I'm so sorry!" Marron wiped a tear from her eye.

"I'm…perfectly fine." Vegeta's chest heaved. "Thank you, Krillin."

A loud siren wailed outside the front door. "Looks like your friends are here, Vegeta!" Krillin said in a sing-song voice.

On a snowy day in January, Vegeta decided he loved Pan. He didn't like children, but he loved her.

She was a bouncy, energetic baby that giggled at everything. Her hair was thick and bushy like lamb's wool. She had bright, wide eyes that fearlessly took in the world around her. Sometimes Gohan and Videl offered him the privilege of taking care of her. All by himself.

That afternoon he bundled her up in small fleece sweaters and blankets until she was an unrecognizable lump, save for her bright face peering out between all the layers. He took her to a quiet park on the outskirts of town. She was so happy to be with him, even though she couldn't see a lick of the world around them.

"Do you think," he asked, holding her high in the air, "that if Kakarot and I had a child, she'd be like you?"

Pan grinned down at him. "Kaka!" she yelled.

"So you think she'd be like Kakarot. Or are you saying I'd have a son instead?"

She squirmed in his grasp. He pulled her back to his chest. "You're just like him. You both smile all the time. Why is that?"

Instead of replying, Pan buried her face in his jacket.

Vegeta rocked her gently. "Don't tell anyone. But one day I wouldn't mind having a child that smiled all the time like you."