Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball Z – it belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I am not making any money from writing it.

Warnings: Alternate Universe. Yaoi (male x male). Goten x Trunks and vice versa. Other pairings.

A/N: This chapter contains adult scenes that have been cut. If you're interested in reading them, go to AdultFanFiction org or to ArchiveofOurOwn org.

Barracks

by chayron (lttomb yahoo com), betaread by werewolfflutist

Part 71

Rain cascaded down the walls and windows. Some of the windows in various buildings were still missing, and the water flowed freely into the rooms. Yet the air was fresh, finally free of sand. Goten breathed in a lungful, sighing in satisfaction. If not for the irritating smells of paint and varnish, he would have felt as if he was in a rainforest.

Goten and Kyon were assembling a bed in the newly erected officers' barracks. The barracks had been built in a little more than two weeks and were now being furnished. The doors of the main entrance were wide, but not wide enough to carry whole beds or wardrobes in.

"Wrong hole," Kyon told Goten, who had been trying to fit two wooden pieces together. "The one on the left. Your left."

The paint on the walls was barely dry, and bare wires hung from the ceilings and walls in some of the rooms. The savars had been ordered to furnish the rooms while the third-classes went on to build the canteen and the kitchens. Goten was secretly glad to be stuck assembling furniture. Last time it rained, he was out running in the training field and splashing around in cold mud in the obstacle course.

"You know, I sort of wish our barracks had also been destroyed," Kyon said. "We'd have also gotten new furniture and everything. Have you seen the bathrooms here? Out of this world!"

Goten hummed under his breath. "Don't be so greedy," he muttered. "Just a few weeks ago we were simply glad to be alive. Personally, I am very fond of our dusty, creaky beds and beaten desks."

They pushed the assembled bed against the wall, and Kyon climbed onto it and lay down to test the springs. "Heaven." He turned on his side, resting his head on his right hand. "You don't seem to require much to be happy."

"Mnmn… It hasn't always been this way. Not until I got here. I think I was unhappy about everything before."

"Is it because you've suddenly become a second-class?"

Goten pondered on that. "That could have been one of the reasons," he agreed finally. "But mainly it was because I suddenly found purpose in every day."

Kyon laughed suddenly. "To royally piss the prince off."

"No, and that wasn't intentional," Goten protested. "Well, not at first at least. Yeah, at some point, I did realize that I loved every minute of it."

The second-class chuckled again. "Pure romance, isn't it? No wonder Ranvera and I stood no chance."

"It somehow…happened."

"Yeah, I know."

Goten gave Kyon a searching look. There was something serious going on between his roommates. It wasn't the first time either. Perhaps they had just returned to how they used to be over half a year ago. What exactly they used to be, Goten didn't know. He doubted that they knew either. He suspected that Kyon was building up expectations, while Ranvera was looking at the whole thing as he always had – having fun with no strings attached. In addition, he had walked in on them a few times while the two were in the midst of a heated discussion, going silent the second his presence was noticed. It was probably best not to interfere and not to question anything. Sooner or later, it would turn out as it was meant to.

"So which room do you think will be his?" Kyon asked.

"You mean the taisa's?"

The second-class chuckled. "Yeah, his."

Goten looked around the room. He shrugged. "This one's pretty nice. Kind of too small for a prince, though?"

Kyon's face turned serious as he watched Goten. "I understand that you're a Legendary and all," he said after a moment, "but this…thing between you two is still very dangerous. I don't think very many know who you are. There will be those who will desperately oppose you. You two have to be very careful. You know that, don't you?"

Goten nodded slowly. "Yes, I know." He didn't think it was possible, though. Two days had passed since the episode in the taisa's office without them exchanging a single word, and he was going insane. His imagination was fueling his lust to the point where he was assembling furniture at half-mast. His mind kept returning to that night and fantasizing about what else they could have done or could still do. Being careful while he was obsessed with the thought of marching into the headquarters, kicking the door in, and fucking the Saiyan prince's brains out right on that same desk was quite impossible.

ooOoOoOoo

The screen blinked, and an annoying sound filled the taisa's office. Trunks Vegeta raised his head from his paperwork and was surprised to see that the incoming call was from his father. He pushed the answer button and the king's head filled the display.

"Yes? Did something happen?"

His father let out an awkward chuckle. "No, it didn't. I just wanted to see how you've settled in."

Trunks' eyebrows rose. Indeed, there was no need for an emergency for a parent to contact their child, but he still wasn't used to this abrupt change in their relationship.

"Well, the study sessions haven't resumed yet. Everyone is busy rebuilding. Otherwise, there isn't much difference in my current workload from what it used to be," he said. "It's only my office that's new." He shrugged. "Mmm… Today, I'm moving into the newly finished officers' barracks."

The king nodded. "So, did you find your blushing simpleton?"

Trunks opened his mouth to protest, then closed it. His father was teasing him; besides, the epithet was…somehow fitting, endearing even. "Yes, I did." Then he realized that his father's sudden interest in his personal life wasn't as innocent as it seemed. Why was he so supportive? If anything, he should be trying to talk him out of it.

"Why are you so interested in my relationship with him?"

Trunks' face was hard, voice low, and the king understood that his son already knew the answer. "Because it would benefit both Houses."

Trunks' eyes narrowed in anger. How could have he forgotten that his father had the emotional intelligence of a brick?

The king shrugged. "It's not like my interest changes any of your intentions, does it?"

"No, it doesn't," Trunks spat, abruptly clicking on the icon to end the call. He stared angrily at the screen, thoughts racing. It really didn't change anything, just like his father had said. He, however, felt insulted and hurt by this attempt to manipulate him and Goten. He was even more upset by the fact that his father's care had turned out to be just another political maneuver. He knew it wasn't only that, but it still upset and angered him.

"Fuck it," he muttered, leaning into the backrest. These past couple of days had been filled with longing and wait. He intended to invite Goten to visit his new living quarters, but he didn't even know which ones were his yet. Perhaps he got to pick? That would be lovely.

A soft ping indicated that he had received an email. His first thought was that perhaps his father had decided to apologize, but then, his father didn't do emails. True enough, it was only his work inbox, and the letter was from National Security, marked as classified. As soon as he started reading it, a disbelieving grunt left his mouth. National Security had tracked Goten Bardock back to Hataro Officer School and were ready to renew their observations. Since the former taisa was dead, it was up to him now to inform them of any unusual or suspicious events concerning Goten. They had also included the emergency phone number, and he had their permission to conscript more people to successfully execute the task. Trunks wondered what was included under "unusual or suspicious events". There was also a big possibility that National Security had already discovered that Goten was one of the Legendaries.

The prince reread the order two more times, wrote a short confirmation, and closed it with a sigh. At least he already knew two suitable candidates for the job: Kyon and Ranvera. He had a feeling that the two already knew much more than he would have liked them to know, and that made them the perfect choice.

ooOoOoOoo

Kyon gingerly scratched at the blue and yellow skin near his nose. It was itchy. What worried him was that they hadn't found any more whip snakes in any of the ruins. The canteen and the kitchens had also been built anew, and it didn't seem like there were any more of the poor creatures left except for the one they had seen earlier. And even then, it wasn't clear whether it was still alive or not.

"Huh," he muttered when a purple head appeared through the grates of his fingers. He rubbed at his itchy face one more time and lowered his hand. He watched the prince walking around, inspecting the building sites, exchanging a word or two with the working savars and officers. He ignored the third-classes, passing them as if they were made out of air. In turn, the third-classes would bow their heads and freeze, keeping their eyes trained on the ground in respect of either his bloodline or the stripes on his shoulders.

"Uh-oh," Kyon whispered when the prince started picking his way towards their small group of savars cleaning up what was left of Matilda. The second-class turned to Ranvera. "He's coming our way."

"So what?" Ranvera huffed. "Do you reckon he'll give us a hand?"

"Give us a kick in the ass," Kyon muttered.

The taisa examined their work and seemed to be content with what he saw. "Come to my office during lunchtime," he told Kyon and Ranvera when he had caught a moment with no one else around.

Amidst the dust and rubble, the two second-classes blinked at him openmouthed. Then Kyon realized that he was supposed to salute, which he did. "Yes, sir."

"But our lunch, sir…" Ranvera protested meekly; he was already hungry.

The prince shot him an irritated look. "I'm sure you can always compensate with the chocolate that you've got stashed away," he spat.

Two pairs of eyes went wide. The second-classes didn't dare deny the accusation, but they did their best to look scandalized. They saluted again.

"We'll be there, sir."

"I'm gonna tear Goten's balls off," Ranvera grunted angrily as soon as the prince's back disappeared behind one of the buildings.

"That little snitch!" Kyon agreed, kicking at the stone under his feet, sending it rolling after the taisa.

ooOoOoOoo

Without knocking, Goten barged into the room and tripped over a jam-packed cardboard box at the door. Cursing, he soothed his left knee that he had banged against the floor. He raised his head to see the startled prince staring at him. Trunks lowered the hanger with his uniform that he was about to store in the wardrobe.

"How about you knock next time?"

Goten glared. "How about you don't talk shit to my friends? You promised it wasn't for protocol!"

Trunks hung the uniform in the wardrobe and closed the door. "And it wasn't. I didn't report either them or you."

The third-class grunted irritably. "But now I look like a blabbermouth." He got up and circled the offending box. He finally had enough time to take in the room. It was huge, and he could see a door leading to the bedroom. He could vaguely remember what the bedroom looked like since he had helped furnish it, just like the majority of the lodgings in the officers' barracks. This was one of the finest flats.

The prince rolled his eyes. "Well, seems like you are one. But listen, can't I at least tease your friends? What's the harm in that?"

Goten snickered. "So now you want to be buddy-buddy with them?"

Trunks blinked at him. It hadn't ever occurred to him, but perhaps he did. Since Kyon and Ranvera already knew everything there was to know about him and Goten, they had already crossed that boundary, hadn't they?

Goten huffed at the look on the prince's face. "They told me that you conscripted them to spy on me."

"Yes, I did. Just a little formality. I have received the orders, so I decided it was the best way to do it. Everybody's happy."

Goten made a face but let it go; it was really the best way to do it. "Fine," he said, giving up. He took his boots off and arranged them at the door. Then he crossed the room and dropped into the sofa in front of the blank TV.

"How is your knee?"

Goten patted his leg. "It's fine. Doesn't hurt."

"I'd offer something to drink, but somebody emptied all my supplies."

The third-class gave the other man a disbelieving look. "No way. Who dared?"

"I thought it was the shaii, but this overly innocent look of yours has just proved me wrong."

Goten gasped. "I would never. Damn. I took only five bottles. The rest were already empty."

Trunks flopped down into the sofa next to him. The new sofa swallowed him in its softness; at the same time, he was engulfed by the third-class' fresh, soapy smell. Despite his urge to confront him as soon as possible, Goten had taken a shower. His regrown hair was still damp, as was his tail. It was wrapped around his waist as per usual, but it was still going to leave a wet mark on the sofa behind his back. The third-class's smell was vastly different from that of a couple of days ago. Two days ago, he stank of sweat and dirt and unwashed underwear. Trunks' sense of smell wasn't as sharp as that of full-blooded Saiyans, but he could still faintly recognize something that was uniquely Goten. Young and healthy, with undertones that indicated interest and curiosity.

The prince suddenly became aware of Goten's eyes on him. That specific undertone of the third-class's scent increased remarkably.

"And?" Goten asked, his brow raised. He was rather surprised to see the prince blush. The attempt to decipher scents had been so obvious that Goten hadn't even thought that the other man had expected not to be found out. It wasn't commonly done so obviously. Then Goten realized that while a full-blooded Saiyan could effortlessly interpret scents, mixed blood didn't allow for that normally instinctive ability. The prince had to consciously concentrate in order to decipher scents. It was possible that he wasn't able to decipher all of them either.

"And which brand did you like best?"

The abruptness of the question threw Goten off. "Uhh… All of them were…equally disgusting?"

The prince laughed. "Not exactly a connoisseur, are you? Apparently, you drink only to get drunk."

"Doesn't everybody?"

Trunks laughed again. "Perhaps."

"Are we really going to talk about your stupid alcohol collection?"

Trunks shook his head. "No, I really hope that we won't. It's not stupid, though."

Turning sideways, Goten rolled his eyes. Their lips met. The third-class bit the prince's lower lip, gently sucking on it. Trunks' hands slipped around his neck to grasp at his nape and shoulders. Goten pushed him down and was suddenly hovering above the prince. Supporting himself with his left hand, he lowered himself even more to press his face against the crook of the prince's neck and inhaled deeply. A cloud of pheromones exploded in his brain.

Goten hummed low in his throat, pressing his crotch against the prince's and thrusting his hips. An approving grunt left Trunks' mouth. Goten bit his earlobe and thrust again.

"Wait a moment," the prince said. He pushed at Goten's chest, making him lean back, then transferred his left leg off the edge of the sofa and to Goten's side, straddling the third-class's waist.

The younger man's right hand tugged at the shirt tucked into the prince's belt, pulling it out and slipping his hand underneath. It slid over the other man's side, brushing across his stomach, then along his ribs. He wanted to reach higher, which required him to undo the buttons. They kissed while he unbuttoned them with one hand, blindly, groping at the front of the fabric. Finally, he pushed the shirt out of his way, revealing Trunks' bare chest and stomach. Goten splayed his palm over the chest and, for a few seconds, simply enjoyed the feeling of the warm skin under his fingers. He sensed the prince relaxing beneath his hand.

Trunks watched him curiously, the look in his eyes most inviting, encouraging. He hummed contently when Goten's palm smoothed across his chest. The third-class's thumb rubbed over his left nipple, then he rolled the right one between his thumb and index finger. They hardened and reddened, however, this didn't coax much reaction from the prince. Goten's palm slid to his shoulders and up to the back of his neck. Their mouths met again, this time more desperately.

If you're interested in reading the following adult scenes, go to AdultFanFiction org or to ArchiveofOurOwn org.

ooOoOoOoo

Trunks blinked his eyes open at the noise that had breached his enthralling dreamland. It was, for some reason, very bright in the bedroom. It took him a moment to recognize the bedroom as his new lodgings in the officers' barracks. Someone was prowling about in the other room. He sat up in the bed and looked around for something heavy to throw.

"Goten!" a hiss came again. "Are you here? Hey, Goten! Fuck this shit! Bardock!"

The prince's eyes went to the bedroom door where the lecturer in ki attacks appeared. For a few moments, they stared at each other.

"Your High- Sir!" Ardema saluted awkwardly. His eyes went to the third-class sleeping in the prince's bed and narrowed. "Bardock!" he hissed again.

Trunks nudged Goten in the ribs.

"Mm? Wh-what? Mm?" the third-class mumbled into the pillow. He dug deeper into the bedding not showing any intention of getting up.

"I think we've overslept," Trunks muttered, still not sure how both of them could have missed the morning sirens. "Hurry up, will you!" And why was the elite here?

"Someone has broken the door in the new kitchens, and the shaii wants to see him," Ardema answered the questioning look in the prince's eyes. He looked around, taking the spacious bedroom in. "He's also three hours late for work," he added a little reproachfully. "Well, at least he has an alibi." He ducked his head to avoid the glare the prince sent his way. "Of course, my mouth's sealed Your Hi- Sir."

Goten's eyes shot open, he suddenly wide awake in shock. "Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh fucking fuck!" He stumbled out of the bed. "Three hours?! How the fuck did this…? Sir?" Confused, he stared at Ardema, then redness exploded all over his face and chest, and he set on looking around for his clothes.

Ardema's eyes left Goten's dangly bits at the front and concentrated on the ceiling instead. The elite kept trying to school his face into a neutral expression but could feel that he was failing. He chortled. Well, good for them. Apparently, Goten had painted the situation in much darker colors than it was in the reality.

"Would you mind getting the fuck out of here?" the prince told Ardema. "He'll see the shaii in a few minutes."

"Uh. Yes, Sir!"

TBC